WAR
by Lisilgirl
Summary: A journal is found, along with a handful of rupees, some parchments, and the birth record of someone called "Colin". ZeLink.TwilightPrincess
1. The Calling

**_A/N: It is that time again, my fellows! WAR is returning in an all-new adventure epic. This may surprise you, and it may not. But I am hoping for over 200+ reviews or Favorites. Personally, I don't care which. I just hope you have the guts to review a story such as this AGAIN. ;D_**

**_For those of you joining us, this is a rewrite of my infamous story, WAR. Although WAR has built up a few reviews, I am expecting much more on behalf of this story. By the end of spring semester, I am supposed to have written a novel from something dear to my heart. I have chosen Legend of Zelda._**

**_I would like to thank everybody who reviewed the first, inexperienced story now: TheFireSage, Mikure, Seldavia, army of perverts, The Final Countdown, Shadow Archer, Flygx, mysterygal3189, abyssdoor, la generala, AquaFlameElementalist, Principessa Dell'Opera, and angel1680._**

* * *

**WAR**

_by: Lisilgirl_

**

* * *

**

**_XXX_**

_In the End_

_**XXX**_

_Dear Diary,_

_Today I found my father's journal. It was hidden in the cellar under a chest of a thousand rupees, a few parchments, and a birth record of somebody named, "Colin". Although the small notebook appears rather worn, matted, and run-down (like my father), I hope it may bring news of his buried past. I am too afraid and shy to ask him how he felt about protecting my mother, or evading the many soldiers it took to find them. _

_When I begged him of bedtimes stories like those that my relatives told, he would smile at me, kneel by my bed, and stroke my hair. He always told me his story was that: a story. He said it was to be trusted, and kept safe. _"When you are older,"_ he always said, _"Perhaps you can find the truth for yourself."_ He never mentioned any glory, only the pain of finding his rule undermined and destroyed by his most trusted friend. _

_Many times as I begged, he spoke of Link, Ganondorf, and Zelda, the three infamous Wielders of the Triforce and how they helped him defeat the Evil King Ganon. It was always a variation of the story: the young boy saved the world in Hyrule, no Termina, no Twilight, and became a man. He sometimes kissed the beautiful Princess Zelda. Oftentimes, he didn't stay with her, but saved other lands instead. In fact, there wasn't one story I could think of where Link and Zelda actually married. Sometimes he was off adventuring with his best friend Tetra, or his sister Aryll. Once, he even fought a goblin! Who would have thought?_

_Still, finding such a treasure to my father was unheard of. He said he had burned all the things from the time of war, and had instead wanted to raise me in the beautiful time of peace. Why wouldn't he let me know? I was eleven after all! _

_I wonder if I was meant to find this. _

_I wonder if perhaps my father wanted me to know something. _

_I wonder if maybe I can find out who my father really-_

_..._

_Yesterday I thought I found a journal. Indeed, it seemed a true likeness of one. There were no dates, records, or pictographs, only a small portrait too dusty to manage out. I flipped through it curiously, determined to find out exactly what had happened, but Koume and Kotake arrived and wrangled me into bed. I had to hide the journal under my mattress, so neither of my nursemaids would find it._

_But upon closer inspection this morning, I found it was a story, written by a neat hand. On the very first page, it read of a small village in the southern province of Ordona..._

* * *

_0_

_0_

There was no doubt on that day under the cloudless, icy sky of fall.

Winter had already began to move in; the friendly goats were growing thick hair that could be laced into braids, the crops had started to wither into shriveling shrubs, and even the chickens had slacked in their laying of warm eggs. There had been several freezes where the world had been iced in frost, finally giving the Ordonian villagers time to prepare for the coming of the snow. A few crops hadn't been gathered yet.

But at the end of that day, nobody cared about the goats, chickens, or even the crops.

They only knew that the war had finally come home.

_0_

Colin was lounging on the sturdy bridge by the river in his tattered working clothes, deliberately keeping his slender fingers deep in the swirling, tugging water. It had frozen his knuckles over with a thin sheet of ice. Although the water could practically freeze his blood, he enjoyed the numbness. Sighing at the odd pleasure, he retracted the appendices and flexed.

Twisting his fingers, he imagined them holding a sword.

If there was anything he wanted, any dream in this whole world, it was to become a Knight. Only once had he managed to go to the famed capital, and it was to help his father deliver a present to King Ganon. He still remembered that fated journey; his father had taken him as a man instead of a boy. It had only been to alleviate taxes on Ordon Village, but even as he traveled with his father hand in hand, he knew something was happening. Walking down the fairway, they managed to find a place just as the Annual Parade of Knights began.

Those Knights had held aloft bright swords, had been proudly gazing to the mountains, reveling in the cheering crowds around them. All he remembered was gaping, his mouth wide with excitement. His father had been chuckling at his face, and even as he set him down, Colin had not been able to stand still. Immediately, he had picked up a stick, and began swinging it like a sword. What would it be like, to combine with something that had no thought?

It intrigued him. He wanted it terribly.

But that dream was very far away. Becoming a Knight took years of training, and the younger you started training, the better off you were. You got more riches. You got more awards. You got more horses and weapons. It was a reward of a lifetime. Colin had decided long ago that he could live without all of the fancies attached to Knighthood, as long as he got a shot at being even a page.

He had prayed to the goddesses for so long; ever since that first visit to the capital. All he wanted was a sword in one hand, and an oath to protect in the other.

Back at the present, he sighed, rubbing his calloused fingers. His blue eyes drew up into the nippy air, watching fondly at the village he called home. Even at age fifteen, this was his true, and only home. The lush grass was about ready to curl and die in the fall air, and the wooden underneath him was creaking, as it had since he was a child. Everything here was predictable, and he liked it that way.

However, last night, he had snuck out for a change. It hadn't been really hard; both his mother and father were asleep in the next room. Snorting at the oddity of it, he thought quietly,_ it wasn't my fault I couldn't sleep. My father could wake the dead with his obnoxious snoring…_

_-_

_Pretending to be a respected warrior with a stick in one hand and his cloak in the other, he made rounds to each of the quiet, sober houses. It was easy to fantasize about protecting the entire village from angry wolves, especially on this silver, full moon bursting with light. Heading down the dirt-laden path, nearly slipping into the water wheel, his ears caught something disturbing._

"_They wouldn't. We are in peace, father."_

_He froze. Ilia and Bo usually stayed up late; even Beth the Delusional knew that. Curiously, he lifted himself to the windowsill. He had been listening to their midnight conversations for ages. It wasn't all that difficult to understand; he had grown up listening to facts of soldiers and monsters. Adults knew things._

_His blue eyes had taken in the scene that spread before him. In their comfortable wicker chairs, Bo and his daughter Ilia were grumpily debating over their bowls of pumpkin soup and savory bread. A single lamp was positioned in front of them, warm and inviting. Their shadows were thrown upon the curving walls like silent guards, trying to stop intruders and friends alike. Colin still listened stubbornly._

_Pretty Ilia playfully smacked her father's broad shoulder, earning a glare from under bushy eyebrows. Bo's huge mustache twitched and his voice grew harsh._

"_Ilia, I am not a fool. I have been a representative of this village from before you were born. You know, Ganon is strategic. He knows what to plan, especially since his rise to power. You shouldn't underestimate his greed."_

_Like a beacon of light, Ilia was sharply saying, "Father, he's so far off his rocker! Advancing his private, elite, personal troops around the base of Snowpeak is preposterous! You can't even make it up to Zora's Domain without permission! And Gerudo Desert? Nothing lives there except ghosts, sand, and hot sun!"_

_Colin jumped as her slim fist beat down on the wood; her eyes were angrily piercing her father. Like coals, they glared at each other. Bo, suddenly slumped in his chair, hand coming to his forehead. Wearily, he peered at Ilia._

"_Don't. Don't curse our children!"_

_-_

Smiling as his mother passed him, with another comment about his shaggy blonde hair, Colin merely shrugged it off. His eyes returned to the frigid waters, watching his changing, unfocused reflection. He was still troubled.

What had the mayor and his daughter been talking about? From what he had overheard last night, King Ganon was campaigning. For either war or exploration Colin was unsure. Who would take soldiers up to a place that had winter all year round? And a desert that had once been a prison? There was no hope there either. Those were forsaken, forbidden places. The sages had long ago decreed that those places were sacred.

Shivering, he pulled his jacket further around his chest, glowering at the last of the pumpkins still waiting innocently to be plucked from the ground. He had promised Talo, his utter friend, that he would help him out today, just to finish the boring, mind-numbing labor. Tomorrow, Talo had decided, was designated Goat Jousting Day.

Nothing could describe Talo. Sure, he had cropped chocolate hair, and a toothy, wicked grin, but underneath the bravado, he was one of a kind. He had been a truly great friend over these years, even if overly excited, and plain rude most of the time. The two boys were the same age, and had been childhood friends since they had been born. Colin didn't doubt that when he became a Knight, Talo would be there, wickedly spouting off again. There was no question. Wherever one went, the other was sure to follow, just for kicks.

That still didn't solve the picking problem though. Daydreaming wasn't going to solve it either, he realized. Glowering at the sky in silent question, Colin groaned before lifting himself rapidly to his feet, nodding as he heated his frozen hand under his warming armpit.

Picking time.

"Hey!" he called to Talo, jogging down the shaded hill to his best friend who was bent double, struggling with the pumpkin vines, "What are you doing, flower picking? Tug harder!"

Talo, his chocolate hair a mess, laughed outright at that, scowling up at him. "Oh certainly, milord, I'm just sure you could do it better," he rolled his eyes, showing his grimy hands, "Come on then, have at it." Digging in his trousers with a grimace pasted on, the tall boy of fifteen pulled free a set of brand new gloves. Reluctantly, he tossed them to Colin.

"Now listen. They're my dad's, you know he'll kill me if-"

_Boom._

Both Talo and Colin froze, stiffer than statues, the sound reverberating in their ears. Colin could feel the shuddering bass lower all the way to the base of his sternum, shaking his bones. Certainty hit him like a ton of bricks, erasing all of the laughter, all of the memories. All he could do was stare towards the repetitive thundering followed by another huge boom.

Horses. War drums.

Colin's heart began to pound. When was the last time drums had gone off? Years ago, when Twilight was attacking?

There was no bravado. Talo gulped, clenching the vines of the fruit, glancing up the slanted hill towards the pass where the road to the outside world lay. A concerned, frightened gaze was spread across his handsome face.

The village burst with movement, from doors slamming open to people stiffening, interrupted in mid-sentence, and whipping around to listen. Murmuring was a buzzing hum in the background, even as footsteps began to run. Colin barely caught sight of his father, Rusl, pounding on Bo's door before he physically pulled the mayor out with a firm hand.

But his attention was ripped back as reality came charging from around the bend.

Seated on strong, lithe horses were ten fine soldiers decorated with silken amethyst cloaks, vicious scarlet hair, and shining swords. As they pierced the villagers into motionless, their eyes were sharp, shimmering with an unearthly empty gaze. The manes of the horses were flying in colorful arcs as they seemed to float directly into the clearing, drawing every gaze. Rearing as one, they pounded into nature's very flesh.

A quiet descended, stronger than anything Colin had ever felt, worse than any discipline offered by his father. Vaguely, he was aware of Talo sidling closer to him, clearly uneasy. They were the closest to the homely road and commanding group of elite soldiers.

And like a shadow living of its own, a black steed screamed from the narrow canyon, bursting through whatever peace might have been there. On its back was a slender-shouldered, ebony-haired man. Panic set course through Colin's veins as the pale-skinned, black-armored man rose to his full height.

Brown eyes that were nearly red, sharper than steel, cut the breath from Talo beside him. Colin could only stare.

It was the Dark Knight, the most respected soldier in Ganon's elite force, second only to the High Prince Ganondorf.

It was Cero.

The Dark Knight's horse shifted under him, whinnying a piercing call that sent shivers down Colin's back. Even the air seemed to quake under the proud beast. The phantom horse was prancing, head bucking, but with a touch from its rider, it was rock solid, more a statue than a living animal.

But the Dark Knight's eyes never budged from Colin's side. Peering at Talo, Colin saw his friend's mouth spread into a grim line, staring at the black-clothed man in the same trance. Forgotten, the village dried up, vanished under his fear and awe.

There was a low sneer, almost unintelligible.

The dark eyes widened, pupils dilating.

The voice whispered out, commanding.

"Citizens of Ordon Village! By the order of his Majesty Ganon IV, descendant of the vanquisher of evil Ganondorf, the rightful Hylian and true King, I hereby declare all men between the ages of fourteen and twenty-five to accompany the Seventh Crimson Squad to the capital of Hyrule to take up arms against the disloyal citizens of the empire-"

"And what will they do there? Be taught to murder innocent lives…!?"

Colin's mind wavered as the familiar voice echoed in his darkest desires. He would give anything to simply stay away from these men, to stay and continue his peaceful life, but if he could even hold a sword in his fingers, his own sword…

At his side, Talo took an involuntary step towards his dreams, eyes feverish. Emotions swirled like a malevolent thunderstorm, barely the tip of the avalanche of want and need. Colin understood the beating in Talo's chest.

Because he felt it too.

In that moment, as he matched Talo's hurried footsteps towards the huge horses, as he saw the Dark Knight's eyes triumphantly glare down the elders, as he saw Beth and Ilia speechless, tears pouring down their faces, he knew.

He was going to become a Knight.

_0_

_0_


	2. Split

_**A/N: Although I said Friday in the original war, I thought I might as well start a new story to keep things in check while allowing people to catch up on what's happening, so they have the inside scoop to what's happening in the early chapters. Those chapters most likely will reappear somewhere in here, although changed. Thanks for sticking with me, friends!**_

_**I thought I might add this little snippet back in, and tell why this story meant (and still means) so much to me:**_

_**(This came to me while I was sitting in the disgustingly boring class of History. Okay, I lied. The professor is an idiot. That's why it's boring. I actually enjoy history more than any other class except Journalism…for obvious reasons.**_

_**Now, onto the idea, a vision, you could say. My history teacher was ranting on the Native Americans, and how they were basically slaughtered because of the whites thinking themselves superior. Manifest Destiny? Give me a break. Anyway, I've heard of a few cases where they took the Natives as slaves. What did this bring to mind?**_

_**You got it. Legend of Zelda.)**_

_**Now, thank y'all for reviewing.**_

_**XXX**_

_Split_

_**XXX**_

Colin never knew how cold the night really was.

In Ordon Valley, the summer was pleasantly hot, just enough where a dip in the cold river would rid a person of the sweat and grime. Most of the time was spent picking pumpkins, squash, and watermelons, and enjoying every minute of bickering with families. Fire festivals were held in the warm nights, with thick roiling smoke wrapping around children, sending them to dream.

But here, on Hyrule Field, it was like winter had descended two or three months earlier than expected. Frost licking on his boots, Colin's body felt like he had fallen through the icy lake into frigid waters. He was shivering madly, clenching his arms around his stomach.

What was Talo doing?

He hadn't ever been forcibly kept away from his best friend before. Many times they had fought and bickered, and refused to speak to each other, but the next day or even the next minute, the two boys were rough housing again. They always argued, shared treasures, mud wrestled...they were brothers in all but blood.

The Seventh Crimson Squad had taken them along with other boys and young men from Kakariko and farm houses along the highway. The "new recruits" had not been allowed to speak, share, or even look at the others. Guards were spaced an even ten meters apart. Cero, riding at the head of the column, looked like a shepherd, gathering all the young boys of the world.

Colin sighed. _This trip is way different than I expected_, he thought, staring out across the landscape. Slowly, his thoughts moved to the Seventh Crimson Squad. The ten guards were surrounding the lump of boys, clearly keeping the animals out and the boys in. They were immobile, like corpses on the ground.

These men were a band of Knights under the command of Cero. They were strong, dedicated, responsible, and beloved all throughout Hyrule. Their scarlet cloaks, shining horses, and black swords were a tell-tale sign that those favored Knights were coming. Nobody really knew who belonged to the Seventh Crimson Squad because they wore their hoods all the time.

There wasn't really any way Colin understood. Why would you hide your glory? He only wanted to be to fly free, to raise the standard of the Knights in battle. What more could a boy want?

Colin had hope left. He knew all the stories about pages for the great knights, and how many pages had been selected last year. If only he could see them, ask them how it felt. And who would be the best master? His eyes floated over to Cero's motionless form beside the gnarled tree.

He hastily glanced away.

The stars were winking. The grove of trees all around him swayed in an unseen wind. Frost was layered over the ground, and the stream down in the valley was gurgling and jumping. It was a night of nights to be out. The only thing to complete it was a warm, crackling fire and blanket. Colin sighed again, breathing on his hands to warm them. He could withstand anything.

He just wanted...to be...a Knight...

_The castle could be seen for miles. It's huge towers and stained glass windows were sparkling in the sun, while flags of the royal family flapped in the breeze. Crowds were gathered at the edge of the palace steps, murmuring and laughing as the clock ticked towards noon._

"_Dad?"_

"_Shhhhhh," Rusl said with a smile, eyes shining, "Can you see anything?" He easily picked up the young boy, raising him higher to see over the swarming crowd. Although the stench was unbearable, the mass of humanity certainly made up for it with their garish clothes. A sea of reds, greens, blues, and purples stretched up and down the avenue. On his father's shoulders, Colin was eagerly gazing towards the wrought-iron gate. There wasn't any movement behind the barriers._

_Colin sighed. "No...there's nothing." Rusl's hands shifted him until his legs were draped over his shoulders. His son's fingers dug into his russet hair, clenching it tight. Rusl winced, but not before Colin squirmed._

"_Dad! Wait, here they come!"_

_Others, young and old, men and women and children, around the two began to stir at Colin's exclamation. Through the air came the tell-tale sounds of horses' hooves clopping on the cobblestone. People began to cheer, clapping as the Gate-Keeper took out his key. With a quick click, the huge gates swung open._

_Horses of every shade immediately came prancing out, decked in the royal colors. Black and gold passed by in streamers, and the riders were smiling, faces broad and opened. The men were waving, gauntlets shining in the sun. On their hips, They looked like gods roiling out from the huge stables._

_Colin glanced around, eyes wide. There had to be a thousand other kids screaming along with him, each waving a banner. For one moment, he flushed with pride. For one time in his life, he had a dream like every other child outside of the rural village. He knew he wouldn't pick pumpkins for the rest of his life..._

_Soon those riders were gone down the road. Most of the crowd was following in a mad rush, but Rusl lifted Colin from his shoulders, smiling slighty. At his side, the wooden shield was carved exquisitely, ready to be taken to the blacksmith._

"_Come on," Rusl said, patting Colin's back while he began to head east. "This is what we came for." The young boy continued to watch the knights, seeing how they raised their white swords in a salute. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like to ride a magnificent horse, raise a sword to the sky, and smile at a crowd of adoring fans._

_Finally, he turned away, following his father, hand in hand..._

Colin rolled in his blanket, and smiled in his sleep.

_**XXX**_

Talo was ready to walk out into the field and die.

He often stopped to think about what he was doing. Why was he trudging through this icy field? Was it because he wanted action and glory? Was it his ticket out? Was it because he was sick of looking after Malo and chasing after Beth? Or was it for his partner-in-crime Colin?

In truth, Talo no longer knew, or cared. This past few days had been a blur of walking, hunger eating his insides, glancing at his fellow captives, freezing in the dark of the night...This was ridiculous. Maybe Cero didn't realize how weak the boys were...

Or maybe he did.

Talo didn't know why Colin loved him freaking much. Ever since the blondie had gone to the capital and had accidentally seen the Annual Parade of Knights, Colin had adored their master, the Dark Knight Cero. When the two boys swam in the summer, it was: "Do you think Knights swim for exercise? Do you think Cero has any time off?" But that had been years ago. It seemed very ironic that as soon as Colin had shut up and forgotten about it, the idol of his dreams suddenly appeared.

The dark haired boy grunted, eyeing the lumps. He didn't know which one was Colin, but frankly, he was very irritated with his friend right now. If he confronted him, he wasn't quite sure if he could truly talk to his best friend. They were cohorts, but Talo wasn't going to say that he was irked, especially since Colin had gotten his dream, and Talo had not.

The sky was really dark. Talo hadn't really noticed when the moon disappeared from sight. The clouds had masked it so well, the glowing light was snuffed out like a candle. The ground was broken and brittle, even for the beginning of fall. The cold bit to the bone.

Misery sank into Talo's mind as he settled down to sleep. Angrily, he thought of his situation. It was ridiculous. Guards were watching them day and night. Like anybody would try to make a break for it! There was an easy choice to make: stay home and be a nobody, or head off for glory and riches. Of course the boys would love it!

Talo didn't like Cero, or the way he was acting. He stayed directly on his black horse at the very front of the line. He held his back straight, his left hand on his sword, and most importantly, his chin held high, like he didn't care he was leading a bunch of children up to the capital like oxen. He was so apathetic!

Why did he need so many men anyway? From what Talo heard, _everybody_ was at peace. Of course there were a few fights here and there over water rights, but come on...Twilight, Termina, Labrynna...they stayed dutifully on their side of the border, and Hylians stayed on their side...

Talo felt his eyes closing. As soon as he did, anger streaked through his soul. Just thinking about this situation made his hackles rise. Cero would pay for all the things he'd done....

_**XXX**_

The next morning was a repeat of the last few mornings.

The small band of boys rose from their huddled, miserable spots on the ground, ate a few handfuls of bread and swigs from milk jars, and began to relieve themselves. Colin's eyes weren't even open before a guard had cuffed him.

While the other kids were relieving themselves in the scrubs, Colin carefully stretched his legs. He bent over, and gazed around the ring of mismatched boys. Finding Talo bent over the stream washing his face, he carefully waited.

The Seventh Crimson Squad had other ideas. In their scarlet cloaks, they rounded up the lounging boys into lines. Talo was taken from the stream forcibly, and settled near the back of the column. His face was wrinkled in dissatisfaction, and he crossed his arms angrily over his narrow chest.

From over the hill, a guard was walking stiffly towards Colin. Hastily, the young boy positioned himself so he would march alongside Talo. Once he was in the line, he pretended to lace his boots quickly, nudging Talo in the process. His best friend nodded to him, but didn't move. Yet another guard passed by, jerking Colin to his feet with a firm hand.

Within minutes, the rag-tag group of boys was settled in lines with their packs on their backs. The beautiful horses had all been saddled, and as one, the soldiers mounted them, swinging on easily. Colin and Talo exchanged a look, lips frowning.

The horses suddenly pranced and snorted as a black horse exploded from over the northern ridge. It was a striking beast, but the attention was immediately drawn to its rider. On its back, Cero's haunting face was blank. He easily reined in the stallion, and surveyed the 'troops' before he nodded to his nearest commander. The Dark Knight turned away.

As if it had been rehearsed, the commander turned. His voice rang out, but Colin couldn't understand it quickly enough. From his deep, muffled throat, the young boy thought he said something about Hyrule Castle, marching, and the Page Master...

When the commander fell silent, he raised his right hand with his white sword. As one, the guards spurred their horses in action. The boys tripped over the wet grass from the hurried pace. Then, just as the other day, the column simultaneously lurched into movement; together, the boys and young men started walking.

At first, the landscape rolled along every so slowly. Hills came and went, only obstacles to be crossed. Trees were growing in sporadic groves, and grassy-like moss covered the hillsides. The only noises were the horses' saddles jingling, the hard footsteps of the travelers, and the occasional cough or sneeze from a boy.

The sun was constantly at Colin's back in the greater part of the morning. For a while, he was certain he was getting a sunburn across the back of his neck. Then after several hours hiking, he felt it burning the tips of his ears. It was itchy, and ridiculously painful to touch. Obviously, the miles were increasing every minute.

The land was stretched out far, far behind them, like a patchwork blanket of fields, forests, rivers and mountains. Only dust remained from the bunch of travelers. Although some animals could be seen skirting around in the underbrush, most of the animals were keen enough to stay clear. It passed like this for hours. The huge train of people continued on the path, never resting.

Then, around one o' clock in the afternoon, Cero called the assembled to a halt.

Colin's lungs were sore from his strenuous breathing, and his legs, although stretched, were aching. The slight rest, on top of that bluff, relieved his pain. He glanced left at Talo. His friend's face was white, but his chin was raised. Most surprisingly of all, his dark eyes were wide with delight.

Confused, Colin swung his head up...

...and spread out before him was a sprawling city, nestled in a ring of towering mountains. Flags were raised on the banisters, and the drawbridge was lowered, rough wood clear even from this distance. People were bustling in and out of the gate, to and from settlements snugged right up to the edge of the cliffs.

Nothing had changed in several years. The castle, from this distance, was gleaming in the noon-day sun. Colin couldn't feel his pain suddenly. The joy and ecstasy of seeing his future home erased gripes and failures. Here he was, on the brink of his dreams-

"Move along!"

The guards were urging them forward again. But as the column moved to the east, Colin realized with a start that they were heading along a small mountain trail overlooking the valley. The rocky precipice was barely three feet across: Cero was already leading, with a few guards behind him. Boys were hesitantly heading behind them while guards filled in between.

From a distance, they probably looked like a bunch of ants trekking across the mountainside. Colin was confused as he tried to step lightly along the very well worn trail. His green baggy pants continually snagged on the few plants rooted deeply in the soil.

Where were they going? Weren't the Knights stationed in the Capital?

Sighing, Colin focused on the boy's head in front of him. Memorizing every pimple, every sweat-laden hair, the Ordon boy simply let his worries go. His father had always told him to take a deep breath when he was angry or confused, and simply let time unwind destiny before his eyes. This was one of those moments. Talo was trudging behind him, most likely planning the same thing.

The rocks underfoot could be felt through his leather boots. Colin wiped his face with his sleeve. Impatiently, he stared ahead towards Cero, noticing how the horse surely found its footing on the scrabbling rocks. The path they followed was only a few miles across. They could make good time. Curiously, he gazed at the trail swinging to the northeast. It disappeared behind the edge of a man-made canyon, complete with sentinels crouched on small towers cut from the ebony rock. It was amazing to look at, and as they drew closer, Colin's breath came faster.

He loved watching how the men stood tall, rapt with attention. Their cloaks were gray, fading into the mountainside. Proud black eyes stared back at him. Colin felt the small smile widen. Would he be like that one day?

While the mountainside vanished, trees blocked the view from the bottom of another slight incline. There was lush scrublands all around, with small bushels of grass growing beneath the trees. Flowers sprouted at the edges of the cliff walls. As the bunch of boys got to the top of the horizon, like a boat it began to roll back down. A valley spread out before them, with a river flowing down the center. A bridge stood like a rock over it, a guard.

The front horse halted, drawing the others to a stand still. Clinking metals echoed, and the boys' panting became prominent in the quiet vale. The horses pawed the ground, and Colin tried to stay clear of the wet dirt clods flipping up. Groggily, he eyed the general.

He was vaguely pointing down a certain trail, where the trees weren't growing. A huge barren field was spread out, with a strange wooden barrier fence sticking up into the heavens. Colin's breath came faster as faint sounds of pounding sticks and shouting arrived to his ears. _It is the page camp_, he realized, _That's what the soldier had been talking about._

This wasn't at all what he expected. It seemed too isolated out on the fields. The walls were made of wooden logs, like a cabin. From here, he could just make out three A-framed roofs on the north side, like barns. Directly in front of them was the entrance, a stone archway. After his slight pause, Cero continued, with his second in command shouting orders. Immediately, the group moved forward in a mass towards the camp.

As Colin drew closer, he saw a three foot wide ditch running around the compound. All the boys were being shuffled over a creaking slab of wood serving as a bridge while the guards dismounted on their horses. Silently, the scarlet cloaked men left them tied around a post. The blonde-boy shuffled around until he was directly behind Talo as they entered. Inside, a terrible smell pervaded the air; it was a mix of blood, sweat, and sawdust. He kicked the other boy's boot, coughing. In response, Talo shook his brown hair, and shrugged, eying his surroundings.

It looked worse on the inside of the walls than the outside. A huge riding arena was at the very center, cheap posts decaying in the sun. Wood shavings and sand made up the entire ground. A hovel with a metal door was settled on the south section, in far better condition than three huge dorms. It looked like out back there were smaller rings. Each barn was separated completely by more wooden walls.

A chubby man was standing beside one of the area rails, greasy hair slicked back. He was chewing on something brown, while his fingers anxiously played with a spare string on his ragged coat. Like a man who knew his payday was nearing, the man's eyes were wide. A grin was fitted across his face.

Cero and his lieutenant hailed the man, and began to speak with him quietly. The man had a wily voice, as he motioned to the boys, the dorms, and back to the boys. A few minutes passed. Colin began to feel nervous.

But as quickly as they had begun to speak, they were done. The guards pulled back, leaving a swarm of boys idly standing in the courtyard. Colin heard horses whinnying and the stamping of thick hooves heading away from the camp. Dust rose from outside, but it settled down. Within moments, the new recruits were staring at the man.

He was grinning. "I'm going to give you a number from one to three," he said, "Ones over there, twos here, threes by the fence." Immediately, he began rattling off numbers, never moving from his spot. Colin frowned. When nobody moved, his face turned bright scarlet.

"I SAID MOVE!"

Movement exploded. Colin found himself labeled as a one, and although he tried to keep tabs on Talo, in the mad rush, he couldn't see what happened. As soon as the boys were shuffled, the burly man pointed each group to a corresponding building. "MOVE!" he roared, pulling a horse whip from behind his back. The sand was thrown into the air as kids scrambled into the doorways. Colin sprang into action, but he was slammed into the door frame. His back popped before he was swept into the door.

Even though there hadn't been any noise from inside the barn-like dorms, there were fifty boys passed out all over the floor. Reeling, Colin saw bloody noses, black eyes, swollen arms and legs, dirty bodies, broken fingers... Only a few of the existing boys looked up from their sleep, frowning before swearing and turning back to sleep on the dirt floor.

There wasn't any room to even walk, let alone sit. The new guys idled for only a moment, then an older boy strode over the lumps. He went to the wall, slid down, and shoved another smaller kid out of the way. Strangely enough, the small kid halfheartedly slapped him, but otherwise, continued to sleep.

Colin's heart stopped. This was _not_ what he was expecting. He hadn't ever picked a fight in his life! He and Talo only rough housed through the dirt fields, and sometimes shoved each other into water. They hadn't ever gotten into more than a fist fight. From all that he'd seen, this was far worse than simply 'duking it out'. The boys littered along the floor boards like sacks of potatoes had bruises in the shapes of fists and sharp knees.

Around him, the new guys followed the first's example; they nervously began wandering around, finding a spot, and forcibly making room on the floor to lie down upon. Colin, timid but afraid, went to the back side of the wall. Hesitantly, he sat down, knees to his chest. His clean blonde hair was almost white from the daylight streaming in through the cracks.

_Maybe I made a mistake_, he thought, shivering, _maybe I jumped into this too fast. I didn't even think about this part. Am I stupid? Did I seriously think it would be _easy_? Did I think it would be immediate riches and glory?_

He put his head down on his knees, cursing himself.

_Maybe I made a mistake._

_0_

_0_


	3. Uncertainty

_**A/N: I am incredibly sorry for the mistakes in the first chapter. It was not as edited as I would have liked. My friend pointed out the mistake. I apologize. **_

_**This is a new chapter. I hope that my loyal reviewers will raise the number of reviews. I am pleased with hits, but in the long run, hits will not be enough. I want results. I can demand them. Please. **_

_**Thanks to Reviewers: abyssdoor, Mikure, la generala, and Principessa Dell'Opera. **_

_**

* * *

**_

_**XXX**_

_Uncertainty_

**_XXX_**

Ganondorf sighed.

The Council Room was jerking with movement as counsels bickered, stood, tapped their boots, and rustled through old notes. As many Councils had ranked positions in the hall, more than a hundred were absent. The number of peoples in the room had to equal more or less to two hundred and fifty. Coughs echoed in the stone foundation. It was a forboding room, like everything in the palace; its black banners hung like dead weight on the banisters. Hard-backed chairs lined the walls of the circular room, all facing the King's Seat. The royal seal of Ganon was burned into the wooden foyer floor.

The High Prince felt his spine permanently becoming stone. In his box, there was only one seat, and he could see only one view. As was expected of him, he watched all and said very little. The King didn't really expect him to put forth any opinion whatsoever. What could a prince do about land squabbles, water rights, and Twilight?

An emissary, Zant, was expected to arrive in the Council at the eleventh hour. A few days ago, a skirmish had broken along the border. Two Hylians had been killed, while the Twilight Guard had burned the crops growing around the house. The Hyrule government was in an uproar, demanding justice. Ganondorf had personally seen the wreckage. It was enough to start rumors of a war.

...and Majesty Ganon IV, descendant of the vanquisher of evil Ganondorf, the rightful Hylian and true King, was not in the King's Seat, ready to debate on any issues that may arise. He had been conspicuously absent from the entire month's Council Meetings. It was tactless, and insulting to Twilight. No wonder they had sent an emissary this time, instead of four formal letters, a doctrine, and a copy of the peace treaty between Hyrule and Twilight forged in the year of the End of the Usurper King.

It fell to the court boss, Igos du Ikana, a thin cruel man to uphold any meetings or concerns raised. Raised from a town, Ikana, along the borders of Gerudo Desert, he was terribly good at his job. If there was not sufficient evidence for any kind of removal from office, or perhaps too many coincidences, the man vetoed every proposal. Wealthy citizens and merchants alike kept their seats against royalty because of the man. He was fair against those who broke the law. With such a strong back bone, he could not be bribed or bartered.

But everyone knew that his sons had been killed by Twilight Armada several years ago. He would not be kind to Zant.

It was oppressive atmosphere; half of the counsels were meek and silent while the rest voted for the war to commence. Of course, there were two or three Knights that took staunch positions against all and every war decision. Although they put up excellent and persuading data and documents, the court boss simply put those hard-copies onto a tall stack of 'Procuring Initiations'.

Ganondorf kept a blank face, noticing that the counsels were all settling into their seats. From his position, he could make out Duke Mikau and Lady Veren exchanging a few words through gritted teeth. Toward the north side of the chamber, Queen Rutela of Zora's Domain and the Composer brothers Flat and Sharp were nodding at a comment Mutoh, the Royal Chief Architect, had made. There were many, many more all stashed into the Council Room, but Ganondorf closed his eyes, waiting for the meeting to begin.

To him, this was all worthless. He got no say in the matter anyway. There was no reason why he should be here.

The herald suddenly straightened at his position, clutching a note that had been slipped in through a messenger slot. The curtains were pulled down to hide the ugly patch of wood. Quickly, the man blew a sharp, ringing note through the air. Silence immediately came over the hushed counsels. Many beings straightened in their seats, eying the doorway. Two stationed guards hefted the formal doors wide as the herald began to shout.

"Presenting the emissary of Twilight, the prestigious Lord Zant!"

A tall man, a foot taller than any Hylian, came striding in, black robes flapping from his strange walk. He wore no war-helmet, as was Twilight custom; instead, his lopsided face with its misshapen mouth and thin nose were bared as a polite custom. His yellow eyes were wide, openly staring up into the shadowed balcony where the King should have been seated. It was obvious he was displeased, even from where Ganondorf was seated.

Zant took the stand, nodding to Igos du Ikana respectfully. The Court Boss simply nodded back from his oak desk, motioning towards the speaker. The Twilight man's hands, thin and pale, came from within his frayed sleeves. As he turned his head, his neck rings glinted in the light. Blinking only once, he began to speak clearly into the amplifier.

"Lords and Ladies, respected citizens of Twilight..." his eyes suddenly caught Ganondorf's, "High Prince Ganondorf..." He stood just a little straighter. Yellow eyes burned. "I come on behalf of the Queen of Twilight, Princess Midna. Here, in this court-room, I hope you hear and comprehend her concerns.

"On the day before yesterday, two Twilian guards men were patrolling on the southeastern border of the Sol Province in the kingdom of Twilight; for undisclosed reasons, their names will remain anonymous. They were checked in at a time of 10:06 a.m. by a man of the name Warrick; I have this transfer on hand. They were aware that a small Hylian farm-house with surrounding fields was close at hand. These men were on good-terms with the inhabitants, a couple that was known as 'Honey' and 'Darling'. In the past, the two had offered them food, shelter, and medical attention.

"However, once the men exited the forest, they found the crops of wheat, corn, and barley burning. They immediately sprang into action; as a result, the patrol flags were thrust into the ground. Once the house was inspected, the bodies of Honey and Darling were found. The guards men did not attempt to move the bodies, especially since they were in Hyrulian territory. It is strictly forbidden in patrolling contracts, according to Article 34-B-6, to assault or, finding any corpses, move anything within any buildings or surrounding areas. Then, instead of running, these men stuck to the next code, Article 34-B-6.5, to 'contain themselves within five-hundred yards of any found body.' If any Counsel here wants to check these documents, I will put them up to Court Boss Igos du Ikana.

"One man stayed in the vicinity, also according to Article 34. He was there to explain any situations that were to arise if a Hylian patrol passed by. As he waited, he approximated 4.52 acres had been destroyed. The other man headed west into your country, being vaguely familiar with the landscape. From his field report, the journeyer found a squad of Knights, who claimed their commander had taken leave for the capital. The Twilian man managed to convince the squad to return to the farm with him. It took nearly three hours to make the round trip.

"As of 3:00 p.m., the squad arrived, took note of land burned, body positions, and time and dates. From signed paperwork that I have controlled here, there was no record of any violence exchanged. From Twilight's stand-point, our men parted on neutral terms, after explanation of every circumstance..."

Zant suddenly took a breath, frown widening sincerely.

"Twilight has no reason to attack an innocent farm. As an emissary, I strongly beg for no hard feelings, or clouded vision. Peace is all Twilight has desired for the past few years. There may have been a misunderstanding with our paperwork in this new problem, but I have supplied every legal document that was regarding this incident, and if you desire a stronger investigation, we will bring both guards and the guard-master Warrick to a neutral location for your analysts to examine. I thank you for your time, and hope that you will review this case carefully."

He bowed deeply, polite despite his serious face. Igos du Ikana nodded to him, signaling the end of his alloted time. Elegantly, Lord Zant stepped from the box and down the aisle. He refused to glance uneasily at any of the Counsels, but they continued to watch him like hawks as he headed from one side of the room to another. Calm as any sky, he strode straight from the grand hall.

The doors were shut and locked again, with the guards resuming their stiff stances.

Igos du Ikana wasted no time. Immediately, he took the box, holding a stack of the documents Zant had left him. Scribes hidden behind a curtain were hastily re-writing and inscribing each word that Zant had spoken. The thin man twisted his lips, tapped the papers quickly, and began to speak just as clearly as the Twilian emissary had. "Counsels," he began, "you have heard all that has been said today. We will take a recess, and resume this meeting in ten minutes time." He stepped down from the podium, and took the legal documents to the scribes.

Ganondorf didn't bother to move; his designated seat could only be reached by a tall winding staircase. It took nearly five minutes to even reach a check-point, let alone enough time to go socialize with the petty Counsels. He needed time to think about this situation. When he had visited that very site, more than a few acres had been burnt; all of the surrounding forest was destroyed as well.

The High Prince sighed. The man who had been in charge of the squad was Cero; Ganondorf himself had assigned that sector, which was why he had to inspect the after effects once Cero put in a concerning essay. He had _hoped_ -though now he realized it had been futile- that Cero would find a way to douse, or even put out, his fiery attitude. Apparently, he'd still managed to find a way to rekindle a war. After measuring the acres, it had ended up being nearly 9 acres, instead of 4.52 acres. Doubling the burn area would have taken six hours, which is how long it had taken the High Prince to ride to the contested border.

King Ganon hadn't even suggested burning the crops to get more trade rights. Cero was getting very hard to handle.

Staring down at the audience beginning to dwindle back in, Ganondorf saw the ethnicities pass before his eyes: Zoran, Goron, Deku, Hylian, and even Terminian had all managed to attend this mandatory session. But where were the Gerudo? Where were those strong, proud female warriors? Were the King and he the only handful left of their race?

A bang sounded from the floor, reminding of the five-minute mark. Immediately, the High Prince stopped all train of thought; he studied the bricks in the wall, finding each crack in the foot-deep stone. It was peaceful in his box, allowing him to think. When his mind was full of doubt, he stole away from his typical study to sit here, in the meeting hall.

Down below, a courier was skidding through the long rows, diligently passing out papers with a flustered look on his face. Robes flapping with each step he took, the man was making ground through the hall. His hands and feet were quick. Within a minute, he had finished his round, and headed back across the wooden floor to Igos. He bowed, then took his position behind the scribing curtain, taking his seat.

Footsteps rang out. Silks and homespun clothes were shifted, tightened down while ladies' skirts rustled when they crossed their legs. There was a white-noise, just a mumble of Counsels whispering and gossiping in the court. Many, of course, were discussing the weather and how fine the sun would be once winter passed. Nobody dared to even whisper of the facts presented in the court, mostly because it was a delicate line between Zant's hopes for peace, and a long, bloody war.

A gong rang. The nobles bowed their heads, beginning to glance over the pieces of paper. Some took quills from their ink pots, quietly taking notes, asking for inscriptions. Igos du Ikana motioned with his hand, calling out, "In front of you are papers that will be used for a vote of confidence in this issue pertaining to the Kingdom of Twilight and our beloved land of Hyrule. Inscribe a 'yea' or 'nay', and any comments you would like to provide for the next Council Meeting." He nodded, signaling the beginning of the indicated time.

Seated high above, Ganondorf furrowed his eyebrows; for the third time during a council session, he had received not one voting sheet. There were those that thought he was cold, never accepting a proposal, but half the time, a cleric did not give him a chance of participating. Only once had he commented on it, and even then, he had thought it a simple mistake. By now, he had quit asking for any document to be sent. Igos du Ikana often called for his public opinion. Half of the time, he did not give it. He did not want to sway public opinion.

There were a few coughs from the participants, as always. It seemed infectious. Ganondorf sighed uncomfortably.

A few moments of papers being shuffled passed. All of the assembled personas moved back and forth, some asking quiet questions of their neighbors. Finally, Igos cleared his throat, rising tall before announcing, "Results will be announced in the next session of Council. Thank you, good people of Hyrule, for attending this small meeting. Until two days' hence, I bid you farewell."

Clattering arose once his gavel hit the mound; chairs were scraped back, papers stacked at the edge of the rows, and the clicking of the womens' heels on the wood filled the air. In a swarm, the counsels swept towards the arched doorways, most talking light-heartedly to each other.

But Ganondorf could see a mass of perhaps twenty people, all leaving together inconspicuously. There were only a handful of men that had any standings in the Council: Lord Dethl, ominous in his swirling black cape; the fiery-haired Majora; Veran, a conniving sorceress; General Onox, a burly, cold mannered man; the cruel Knight Bellumbeck; and leading the pack was none other than Cero. The other councils skirted them like the plague.

This startling union had been going on for some months; both Majora and Bellumbeck, both outstanding nobility, had inquired Igos du Ikana for a change of seating closer to General Onox three weeks ago. Lord Cero was gathering his supporters, and although a few princes and dukes had seen this change, many of the merchants had not. The power of the Council was shifting towards the Dark Union.

And Ganondorf knew, when the time came, that he could not stop it.

_**XXX**_

The wind was biting his neck as he surveyed the pages' wind-swept yards. Mottled grass had been shorn from all of the fighting and scuffing the new boys had been participating in; all the boys knew that the time for advancement was upon them. Even now, there were four or five brawling on the pavement. He shook his head, feeling his horse prance under him; the animal was just as violent as his master. Black hair whipped into Cero's face. His red eyes narrowed, calculating.

The High Prince Ganondorf was studying them with him, gazing down into the Zoran River Valley. He was seated on his warhorse, still as rock. His olive-skinned face was closed, concentrating on the Page Hall just below him. Down below, the boys were circling each other, fists pumping. It made Cero want to laugh. Those mere children would in time become Knights. Despicable as they were, he needed them to win his argument. His time had come.

After the Council Meet, both of them had met 'accidentally' at the stables. In the hay-strewn corridors, Cero mentioned news for the warfront. Ganondorf had been reluctant to listen, but had agreed once the Dark Knight had suggested a surveying ride. Both pretended that the day's council session had not been held. Cero wasn't going to blow his chance now.

It had been four months since the King had declared the royal edict. Every single child from every single village had been brought in willingly. Of course, some of the men nearing twenty had refused adamantly. Even of their pride meant nothing, they could not refuse when family was threatened. After a few sessions with the practiced knights, they miraculously gave seamlessly into the harsh military treatment.

Ganondorf's powerful black war horse stomped, causing the giant, red-haired man to sternly touch the beast's shoulder. Seeing a break in his concentration, Cero asked, "My lord, is it time to begin honing their talents? We have many knights to spare, and plenty of boys to go around." When the other didn't even budge, he coughed, "Sir, I am thinking of the time required to invade Twi-"

"Cero. You want what is best for the kingdom?"

The black-shrouded man shivered, feeling his own horse shy away from the dangerous tone in the prince's voice. Angrily, he bit back his fear, back straightening. He yanked on the creature's reins with a white hand, causing it to throw its head. Ignoring the snorting horse, he began to speak carefully.

"My lord, I believe that-"

Before he could even begin, Ganondorf's golden eyes turned to his. They silenced him without question, and he stiffened, regarding his lord carefully. His armor glistened in the rain, while he let droplets of water wash down his face. Under his breath, Cero cursed himself. The Gerudo shifted his weight in the stirrups, easily turning his horse back towards the palace. The large hand motioned, and Cero followed instinctively.

The long road was turning muddy; later in spring it would become impassable with the thick swells of puddles and feet of stagnant mud. For now, winter was almost upon them, lacing the ground with frost and pure snow straight from the mountains. This road was the source of all trade, running as far north as it did south. The kingdom depended on the swollen trails. Caravans had been promised from some of the northern villages, but the palace needed reinforcements, especially with Twilight ready to spring for war.

"Knight Cero," Ganondorf said quietly, "Are boys enough to overtake the pass of highly trained, marshaled soldiers of Twilight?" Eyeing his captain, the prince shook his head, hair beginning to plaster to his neck. "The Princess is no fool; you know this, having lived so close. She'll surely see our approach. These boys have been our last resort; they don't know the structure of the military, or the cunning of a scouting array. Either we'll have to call a truce, which you know my father will not accept, or we will have to reap more than simply boys."

Cero's heart beat viciously, and his eyes darkened, glancing at his lord. He barely saw the land behind them when they headed down the rocky trail. The fog was still dreary, after all of his months here in the civilized country. He detested this fall season more than the mild winters of his homeland.

Shaking his thoughts away, he snapped, "Pardon my rudeness, but sir, that's why it would be wise to progress faster. Knights can instruct their individual pages more quickly than a frenzied mass of boys."

The horses' hooves beat rapidly on the wooden drawbridge of the castle, drawing the attention of all the citizens scattered along the street sides. Quietly watching them, Cero frowned, continuing, "Those boys are dedicated, and they wish to learn, to become Knights! They are the future! If we make them grand now…!"

The smash from Ganondorf's war horse's feet on the cobblestones stopped the Dark Knight in mid-sentence. Gaping, he gazed up furiously into his superior's eyes, seeing how the man's eyebrows were furrowed. Every thought stopped racing through his brain, even as Ganondorf wickedly turned to stare at him.

"Dark Knight, what about the heathens? Surely they know the country. Can you not persuade them with gold?"

A matching sneer bit into Cero's lips. The Royal Highness was provoking him. The crowd parted easily before them; silence was dropping like an avalanche, pushing the citizens away from the two impervious horsemen. This was how it always was. The red eyes flickered out, and he gritted his teeth, submitting once again.

"No sir. He will not bend, not even for glory. I long ago cast him out."

"From the sounds of it, he cast you out."

The Dark Knight burned with hatred at those memories of peaceful forests, smoking fires, and the quiet melody of _her_ singing conjured before his eyes; in return, his orbs were nearly coals in the dangerous air. Ganondorf was not fazed, only continued forward, up the paved slope into the royal stables. The courtyard was swept free of all hay, and the snorting of horses could be heard over the clatter of training horsemen.

Smoothly, the High Prince dismounted, handing the reins to a scrawny boy. He began to stride towards the high palace entrance. Unconvinced, he seemed to brush aside all of the arguments, a true prince to the essence. The Dark Knight could not feel more hatred than looking at that broad back. If he could have, he would have slid a sword straight between the fourth and fifth rib…

"Cero," Ganondorf called back arrogantly, using his first name casually, "Do what you think is best in the name of war."

With his cloak flowing to his heels, he pushed the doors open with a mighty thrust, disappearing into the stone tower.

"Do what is best…?" Cero snapped, whipping his war-horse away with an angry jerk, "Besides killing that imbecile?"

With the wind howling like a struck wolf at his back, the Dark Knight began his descent into the village. He had no quarters at the Palace, and for good reason. Knowing his heritage, it was only natural to cut off any snake's head you might find. He slept wherever he felt, from caves to the beds of terrified villagers.

The war was his only way out of this blasted country. He hated it with more than fiery passion could ever come; his hate was closer to obsession. The scraggy mountains, the hills, the fiendish deserts…they all meant nothing to him. Home had never been in those lush, broad forests, filled with light and laughter. He had no home.

"This is foolish. A test, perhaps? The Prince Lord is too cruel!" he mocked, clenching the sword's ebony hilt across his back. After all his hard work, his campaigning, his increasing duty to the Crown, Ganondorf shooed him away like a straying cat. Whatever was "best" in these harsh times was up to debate.

Janquil shifted under him, throwing his head menacingly to remove an unwanted civilian from the path. Cero let the war-horse do whatever he liked as they trotted towards the border gate. Instinctively, the black horse's head lengthened, and his huge pounding legs effortlessly moved in a gallop past the heavily populated gate. Snorting, Cero realized Janquil was the only thing that trusted him.

Horses had been the wondrous miracle in the ancient legends of his brethren. The stories had been horses descended from the sparkling heavens in a brimming thunderhead, crying like the demons themselves. Eyes red as the blood-sun, they had been inhumane, but trainable. Only the fiercest warrior could manage to tame one, building trust between them. In the real world, they were bred to fight.

"Surprising I should remember," Cero whispered to Janquil, urging the horse over the rocky mountain pass. It was littered with broken wood, and the refuse of the Page Hall. Foul-smelling as it was, the rain was effacing all signs of humanity. The war-horse continued on his smooth pace, limbs beginning to slow into a lope.

Cero automatically readjusted his body, furiously thinking back to his problem. The war. That's all this was about. It was a power struggle. Ganondorf had not known what he asked. Heathens expected no gold, no resistance. They expected to be respected, and left well enough alone. All they wanted was to be away from the world, and keep their stretch of land a neutral ground.

Anger. That's all he felt. Why should he have to struggle in this new world? He had changed. He was no longer the whining, sniveling mongrel, held lowest in every perspective of a clan. He was a Dark Knight, the Death Knight of Hyrule. No one could, or would, stand against him.

What did he have to fear of the past?

It hit him like a ton of bricks all crushed onto his chest, even as the rain blinded him. The plains were mere shadows of gray around him. Laid bare. That would be more than a fitting end to the past.

As the lightning spurred the war-horse under him into a frenzy, Cero couldn't help but throw his head back and laugh. Janquil screamed in triumph with him, wind whistling like snakes through his mane. His hooves were pounding the terrain ruthlessly. He too, understood. There was one key to all of this. The increase of the Knights. The tactics of Twilight. The destruction of the Forest Clan.

His brother.

_0_

_0_


	4. Tides Change

**_A/N: This is a new, smaller filler chapter. Although it may not seem like much, it's describing Colin and Talo's views beginning to change._**

**_I am, however, VASTLY DISAPPOINTED IN THE MAJORITY OF FANFICTION READERS. If you are reading this story, the only way you can hope to have an quick update is to REVIEW. I am in control, and I don't have to update. This only hurts my loyal readers. Please, if you don't want to log in, just send an anonymous review. I WOULD APPRECIATE IT._**

**_Thanks to Reviewers: la generala and Principessa Dell'Opera. If both of you review again, I will send you a new chapter. The WHOLE chapter. Not a preview._**

* * *

_**XXX**_

_Tides Change_

_**XXX**_

As the rain began to pour down, Colin determinedly faced off with another opponent, refusing to give into the pain near his temple, eyes, and knees. He had been thrashed too many times by this piece of shit to allow it to happen again.

Victor was a second year, strong but not fast. His hair was lanky, his eyes dark brown; he looked like he'd worked every day of his life. He was from Castletown, the center of vital trade for more than four countries surrounding Hyrule. Like all the other boys, he was covered in only a few scraps of clothing, mostly a loincloth and scratchy shorts made of potato sacks. He was in the first barn along with Colin.

The boy's foot lashed out, causing Colin to leap shallowly, then roll straight towards his opponent, bringing up his fist. It smashed easily through Victor's cheek, making the boy grunt before falling onto the ground. Without any mercy, the smaller boy booted the second-year's rib, causing a sharp crack and a groan of pain to follow. Colin's chest was heaving.

Victor wasn't put down so easily. His leg swung around, knocking Colin to the sand. In a flash, the boy was on top of the blonde, slugging him in the face. He held him down, while Colin writhed, grappling with his opponent. They grunted, straining to find any leverage. Victor's nails dug into Colin's bicep.

Finally, Colin got his knees under Victor's, and kicked. Howling, the older boy recoiled before immediately defending himself against Colin's punch. They rolled around in the small paddock, nearly bumping into another scrapping three boys. Against the fence, Colin grabbed Victor's head and slammed in into the post. Blood filled his vision from Victor's earlier hit.

He refused to move while Victor flung his limbs around. It took a few moments, but finally, the boy spat out a mouthful of spit, held up his hands, and quieted. Colin moved off of him, barely helping the kid to his feet. With a wave, the younger boy moved off, eying the crowds for another stronger opponent.

_Five out of seven. Not bad._

Colin was excited. Four months had passed, and he had heard rumors from the Page Master Bryk that the Lord Ganondorf and General Cero had set a date for the Trials, and how they would be displayed like animals. Bryk told them that shy of a tornado, nothing would stop the two from attending.

Nobody could stop the pages; this was a do or die situation. Only several of them would be able to go on to real knight masters, not just the clumsy one. Colin was aiming high; a captain would suffice. A general would be even better. Generals didn't want weaklings being under their command.

This was his chance. All of the glorious stories he'd heard could be confirmed by his new master. He would go down into history as a page of worthy accomplishment. Would they sing ballads of his great deeds, when he was six feet under? He would just have to train harder. This was his dream.

Bryk was decreasing his chances by helping some along, mainly two third-years. Every so often, a whole barn would go out for a run around the ring. If any third-years were slacking (most weren't; this was their last chance before heading off to the regular army) Bryk would try to make them run harder, give them more opportunities.

Once, he even took two third-years away from the barns for a few minutes. When they came back, they had grins from ear to ear. After that, those two were the objects to beat; Bryk had given them underhand techniques, mostly grabbing pressure points, short hair under the ear, and even using the elbow, the strongest bone in the body, to break bones.

Those third-years were skirted like the plague.

The meals weren't very nutritious. Gruel and stale bread were the staple food, although once or twice a watery stew would be served. It was marginal, but all the boys fought over it like it was a roast feast. They didn't get too much, but nobody died from starvation.

Bryk told them that not having a full stomach helped them abstain from becoming a lump of lard sitting on a throne. Even the High Prince exercised and picked fights, Bryk told them, and he went to meetings in the Council Room, and because his mind was like an iron sword, he could make crucial decisions.

Oftentimes, Colin decided he would try to be like Ganondorf, although he would have been a fool to want to be accepted by such a rough master. He had heard the nightmares, like how the High Prince intentionally left pages on the field of battle, and how he relentlessly sparred with the first year Knights, even sending a few to the hospital wing. The only good thing about Ganondorf was that he was a skilled politician.

Crawling carefully, Colin managed to find his spot on the floor. A few others were sprawled about, but they had left his blankets untouched. He smiled.

These months had made him stronger. He wasn't the weakling who pulled pumpkins out of the ground, although that had given him enough muscle to begin to build brawling muscle. His nights were spent fighting off anybody who tried to steal his scrap piece of cloth pillow, and his days were spent brawling in general. His muscles, once slim and defined, now were bulky. His hair, now a few shades darker with dirt, was only a ragged mess around his brow. His clothes were destroyed from the hitting, punching, and brawling that went along with being a page.

But he still wasn't the strongest or the fastest. The third-years were increasing in leaps and bounds, oftentimes beating the others senseless to prove their dominance. Colin wasn't sure he could take them if it came to a fair fight, one on one.

Despite what reality was giving him, he couldn't stop hoping that Cero would choose him. On the trek north, all he had watched was how Cero had held himself, how he had spoke to his loyal men, how he had moved like he was a chosen from the Goddesses. Goblins, vultures, stalfos, what Cero hadn't killed, he would when he found them. That's how far his legend went out.

That's what Colin wanted to be part of. He tried every day to increase his mind, strengthening it to be tougher than nails. What good could he be if he hated violence? As hard as he tried to bury it, there were always worms of doubt in his mind.

What if he couldn't follow an order? What if he had to kill a whole village of innocents?

Thoughts like that had crossed his mind every so often, but he threw them away. After all, Hyrule was simply guarding its borders. Twilight people were brutal, massacring monsters without a definite language. If Hyrule couldn't prosper because these creatures were encroaching upon their land, how would the farmers and civilians survive?

That was the only thought that passed through his mind now, besides eating the lean soup and stale bread, and napping with one eye open. He would train himself to be a soldier. He would be able to have his own pages when he was old enough.

That was a promise.

Maybe his father would be proud, when he returned back home. Colin could not forget that kind face, the rough hands of a farmer and hunter, the humble sword of a countrymen dedicated to his family and friends. Of everybody, his father was the one that mattered most. Colin had to become a Knight, had to show the courage and valor of Ordon Village. He would show them what it meant to be a warrior.

He yawned. Settling down on his stretch of floor, he covered his eyes with his forearms, blocking out the few streaks sunlight. Listening, he let the sounds of grunting, shouting, and thumping lull him to sleep.

_**XXX**_

In the afternoon's white light, Talo awoke.

His mind came readily, spilling a list of injuries and wounds he had received. Only five new bruises. Two cuts. Black eye. Hmm. He was getting much, much better.

_You wuss._

No matter how quiet and meditative he was, he could not shake himself from his new, attuned attitude. Fear and anxiousness gripped his heart, making it pound even though the tournament was nearly eighteen hours away. It was almost the day. He _would_ be chosen tomorrow.

For four weeks, he had fought, taking on many of the senior pages that had been here for three years, living in the dump of shacks and destroyed brick courtyards. Recently, he had been winning all the scuffles, gaining reputation. It had all been in preparation. Other third-years couldn't be as bad as some of the nasties in his group.

Talo glowered at some of the second-years wandering by in his containment unit. He hated mulling around during the day, searching for a fight. There were other things he could be doing, instead of pushing and prodding other smaller kids around. Give him a horse, and he could practice archery. Even a wooden stick would be better than brawling. He could take care of himself!

The Page Master, Bryk, had chosen them all out last night, taking them into special consideration. Talo was disgusted when the burly, gray-skinned man had tried to excite him on tomorrow's goings. He would fight many of the third, and skilled second years. Only a few first years had been chosen, and they probably wouldn't be accepted anyway. Returning back to his ramshackle hut, all Talo could think about was if Colin had been chosen as well.

He still had not fought, or sought out, Colin. Just thinking of rising up against his best friend was unthinkable. They had been separated, all into different containments. That first day had been the hardest. He had known he was alone. Such isolation was to gain independence, but it hurt not to see anybody familiar. Even now, strange boys would sleep next to him, skin-to-skin, uncaring of his discomfort.

Quietly, Talo thought about when he had last seen Colin. His friend had been humming with excitement, ready to give up any of his possessions to be trained. In the yard, his blue eyes had been bright, and his feet anxious.

Had Colin even looked at Talo when he had scampered off into the first dorm? No. Were they likely to see each other again? No.

Talo was ticked. Every so often, he would throw himself into fights, trying to stop those rebellious thoughts from taking place. It was hard, but after scrapes and tumbles, he was doing better. Exercise definately took his mind off his frustrations.

It wasn't so bad in the dorms. He had to deal with grudges, rampages, and fights, but overall, every boy was in the same boat. At least he hadn't gone through three years of this before. What would he have done? What would Colin have done?

Despite his drive to become one of the greatest knights, Colin would have problems letting go of his memories. Talo knew it would only haunt him. Being a knight meant having no attachments, no family except brothers-in-arms. Rusl, Colin's dad, had always been around, showing his son how to fend off the strange animals with a spear, or how to fish under the ice. He even took him to ride goats. Colin was not going to give those up readily.

Talo knew he could easily transfer into this lifestyle. His family was a jumble. His father Jaggle always grumbled, but gave into Pergie, never really showing anything but resentment. What kind of life was that? Malo, the prodigy of the family, had already shown business protocol and intelligence beyond his few years.

He wasn't sure where he fit in. Beth had been his only escape, and even then, he had teased and bickered with her to hide how furious he was at his simple lifestyle. Colin never really asked how Talo was.

This was _his_ time to shine. His family would bow before his feet, once he showed them how great he really was. Wouldn't it be grand to talk to his little brother like a three year old? His father would always be talking about his oldest son, bragging of the missions and incredible feats he had performed in the service of King Ganon. Even his mother would be stunned into silence, praising her eldest son.

What a day that would be! It would take dedication, but Talo was certain that if anybody deserved to be a Knight, it was him. Colin, for all of his traits of kindness and bravery, had a family who would accept him for whoever he was. He didn't _need_ to be a Knight like Talo did.

Besides, learning humility would help Colin become more of a man. He was still a boy, reaching for a dream that would consume him...

0

0

_**A/N: Here are just some tips, reminders, and hopefully things you'll remember.**_

_**The Dark Knight or Cero, is Dark Link.**_

_**King Ganon is not Ganondorf. He is the father of the High Prince Ganondorf. He is exceedingly evil, as he always is.**_

_**PHYSICAL APPEARANCE OF MINOR RACES**_

_**Any character who has the name of a certain race from any one of the games has a set physical appearance (skin, hair, eyes, social characteristics…). Also, these races are humanoid, not like in the games with crazy fins, or flowers, or rocks attached to their backs.**_

_**ZORA: Pale tan to albino skin, straight white to green/brown hair, black eyes, and talented swimmers. Most grew up around lake fronts, villas, rivers, or oceans. Have a large sense of right/wrong but are easily innocent and therefore corruptible, and are loyal beyond the grave.**_

_**GORON: Tan to dark skin, light hair (if not mentioned otherwise), green or brown eyes, and incredibly strong. Grew up around mountains, harsh conditions. Very proud, and confused in situations, but have good hearts.**_

_**GERUDO: Olive-tan skin, red to brown hair, green to black eyes, and passionate about chosen ideals. Grew up in the desert, as nomads. Like to be very uniform, great leaders because of charisma, and wily buggers. Most are women, but a few males have been born.**_

_**VILLAGERS: As a side note, most villagers live around the city, because they believe the monarchy/dictatorship has actually brought peace. They live in terrible conditions while the rich get richer. Tend to have same characteristics, like dark blue, muddy brown eyes; lank brown hair; homespun clothes.**_

_**There aren't very many bright blued, blonde characters. That trait (in legend) had been reserved for the Goddesses' chosen. As for every genetic region, some blondes married brunettes, resulting in very few clans with blonde-haired people. They (blondes) have been elevated due to this old law as rich folk.**_


	5. Choose

_**A/N: This is an older chapter. Some of you may remember it. I want to let all the reviewers know that you are all amazing. The next chapter is ready to go. I'm not going to update until several readers REVIEW. Thank you, and have a nice day.**_

_**Thanks to Reviewers: Principessa Dell'Opera, la generala, Sseldavia, Vopi, Mikure, and 8.-'.-.'-Winddance-'.-.'-8**_

_**

* * *

**_

_**XXX**_

_Choose_

_**XXX**_

"Sir?"

Glancing nonchalantly at his captain, Ganondorf's eyes grew dull. The Dark Knight had been waiting for this day, wanting to introduce the knights to pages and allow the cycle of fighting grow larger.

At the present, the dark hairedd man was struggling to contain the glee, and amusement, radiating from his eyes. Perched on his horse, he kept glancing at Ganondorf, as if he couldn't believe this day was here. Janquil was prancing and snorting, feeling impatient as his master.

The High Prince knew he too should be ready to take an apprentice, the strongest, and the mightiest. Brawn, not brains. That's surely what Cero would search for. The boy would have to be anybody who could lead the other pages, and still retain no harassment for his superiors. And Cero knew exactly whom he wanted. He had been watching for days.

Surprisingly, there was no wind at his back; it was a promising day, with hot, hungry sun. Winter should just about be set to commence its chilling breath. Ganondorf was shifted by his war-horse, Conquistador. The loyal beast was anxious as well.

"Continue on, Captain. I will keep my eyes open."

The entire Knight force was below them, according to rank. All were staring straight ahead, not a hair out of place. In rows, they resembled child's toy soldiers, complete with armor, weapon, and horse. With the hints that Cero had been whispering in their ears, they were ready to march directly into Twilight, and ransack the place, no matter the cost.

Cero was waiting for him to start down the dry slope to the page dorms, showing rare courtesy. Nodding once, Ganondorf turned before he wrinkled his nose at the offending buildings. The King, and those few council members that retained power, had put down his concerns about the condition of these ramshackle huts. Nobody shared his opinion, even the boys. They took what was given.

The wood from the entrance creaked overhead as the horses' weight dropped onto the supports. The straw, dirt, and grime were years thick over the containment walls. Straight across the small expanse, there were the tall metal fences, showing the infamous Tournament Ring. The arena in the center of the complex was made of decaying brick, and the ring of blood-crusted sand. Boxes were not offered, even for the King; you sat on your horse or stood by the rail.

Gazing at the three separate blocks, Ganondorf was reminded of a prison camp. This had to be the lowest of the grand military of Hyrule. He had promised himself he would never come back, especially to pick any boy who caught his eye. There had to have been another way. Cero had managed to sneak his way in favor of the king yet again. Next time, there would be no relenting.

Ganondorf's face was straight as the gates swung open, and the thirty some odd boys filed out in strict lines. Every boy was bruised and bloody under filthy clothing. Separating each unit from the other was idiotic. One uniformed mass could fight much better than a few jocked souls.

Pulling Conquistador up to the reserved position, the Prince sharply watched the boys trudge in, legs shaking in anticipation. Their eyes were hollow and trecherous. He could see many of the races; Zoran, Goron, Gerudo, and Hylian were ready to fight to become Knights. The mass was barely clothed, ribs sticking out beneath their tattered shirts, feet bare. They did not waver, just like replicas of the soldiers parading in the streets. They had no weapons other than their fists; generally, it was up to their Knights to inform their pages on weaponry.

It was disgusting to see how their faces were bruised, their fists bleeding.

Still, this was the future, and they promised intelligence the way their eyes flickered out, testing, and judging without any fear. The boys needed to be strong as they fought for rankings. Ganondorf wanted no weaklings.

_**XXX**_

_Unreal,_ Talo thought numbly, _It's unreal._

He had only once been outside his unit, and that had been when he first arrived. Then, the rain had soaked through everything, and he had been concentrating on being miserable. After all, the journey here had not been a bundle of pumpkins. The vicious glares of the leading knights, the weather, and finally being separated from Colin had been a nightmare.

Colin was his best friend. They could have passed for brothers, the way they finished each other's sentences, and hung about the favorite fishing pools together. The summer days had been the best, with the fresh fruit pies, horseracing contests, and long, relaxed days. Even with chores, it had been so much more fun with Colin.

Just thinking of his home made him furious. The entire village would probably be celebrating again, relieved of some more mouths to feed. Beth, Ilia, and even little Malo would be having a ball, triumphantly playing hide-and-seek in the tall waving grass, and they would definitely be heading in the direction of a casual life. They wouldn't think of Talo.

Not here. In this pigsty, where the icy wind blew year-round, the ground was his bed, and the scarce food reeked of rot and decay. He had wanted dreams, honor, glory! Why must they start out so low?

Colin had wanted to be the Knight. He had the best chance. And if he made it, there was no reason Talo couldn't. They were brothers. Either one of them had to become and ruin years of friendship, or they both must make it, and triumph.

Talo had not forgotten the Black Knight, the one who had come to the village. Riding his demonic horse, he could have been the devil, with blood-shot eyes, and the unrelenting force. The hellish trek was due to the respect and command of Cero, the best General in Hyrule. Talo remembered how he had critized the Dark Knight. Now, he wasn't so sure.

What would it take to get men to respect…or fear you? All his life, Talo had been pushed and prodded, called the joker, the clown. What if that's not who he really was?

Today, he might be able to change that.

_**XXX**_

This was the last time he would wait. The wind was stilling, making the lukewarm weather take a turn for summer. Seasons were reversing; fates were changing, all for this day. This was his time.

Ganondorf had not wanted this, or if he had, he hid it very well. Of all the Knights assembled, he would be the first to choose; he had the choice of the best of the best. Cero hoped, and cursed, that he would pick the smart ones, taking a greater chance of creating a full-fledged knight.

The one Cero had his eye on was a strapping boy, one of the last they had taken. He was from the almost nonexistent village in Ordon, strong, able-bodied. Used to hard work, he was a promising specimen, especially since his time had been spent picking crops from the hard ground.

Despite his self-image, the red-eyed Knight snorted. Country bumpkins were some of the best; after all, the Princes, Lords, and Dukes were all pampered, instead of being forced into labor. The rural villages had no time to spare for that, and worked their citizens to a greater value. Even the old legends had proved that a goat-herder had become the Head of Queen's Royal Guard.

They were all ushered in rows, straight into the circle. Winding around the posts, the kids gave each other glances from bruised eyes, skirted each other through the sand like dogs. Leaning forward, Cero studied each boy, taking notice of all the clumsiness, the self-assurance, and the way they looked around. Glancing at the High Prince, he saw the man watching the same characteristics. Even he knew how important this was.

Those boys who caught any Knights' eyes would be drawn aside afterwards, and they would take a rigorous refreshing course for six months. The course would include many studies, such as geography, history, and tactics, along with other minor classes. A training master in the area of weaponry would teach them as much as he could. If they still held such esteem with the Knights, then they would be accepted as squires. Knights generally had enough time to shepherd around their pages, even for the six months.

Cero had quite a bit of thought for his own page. Sparing another distant look, he realized he saw the boy he was searching for. He was standing tall, back straight and chin up just like any other boy. But there was something indefinable in his eyes, either anger or honor.

A sudden bell clanged, causing his horse to stomp. Flicking his ear, Cero returned his attention to the boys, who were all preparing to advance on each other. Some were crouching, knuckles digging into the gritty sand, some were backpedaling, eyeing any stragglers or weaklings they could.

Jerking forward, Cero watched with excited eyes. This was it. This was where his plans all fell into place.

_**XXX**_

Minutes, hours could have dragged on since Colin had entered the crude ring. Everything was strangely out of focus; his heart was pounding like he was in a race. The decaying wooden rails around him reeked of unwashed blood, sweat, and rot. The sand was hot under his feet; the grit was being mashed into his skin as he let his weight fall back onto his chapped heels.

This rotting, pitted place was the quintessence of all that his dreams stood for. Thousands of boys, pages, had fought in this very sand, and had their own blood enthralled by the exact dreams. This was where the line began between his old life and the new. He was going to become a Knight.

Across the ring, he saw several nobles, all extremely tall, and proud looking. Seated on giant black warhorses, they could have been part of the elite soldiers, complete with unmoving eyes, iron armor, and shimmering hair. Deep, treacherous scars lined their faces and showing limbs, showing signs of veteran warriors.

The Dark Knight was present, scarlet eyes piercing. As soon as the boy made eye contact, those shining orbs turned to him. His last resolve faded away. His limbs felt leaden. When the Cero had come to the village, it was he who had inspired Colin. With his fierce reputation, it was only natural to wish to be chosen by such a high general.

Colin hastily turned his eyes away, staring at the far pole, absolute in his despair. How could he manage to win over all of these third years? Sure, he had fought most of them in the courtyards, but those boys in the other yards were foreign, different. What could Colin know of them, of their special moves? Even in the third years in his compound were tougher than nails.

The Master was at the gate now, a huge gong with a brass mallet in his beefy hand. Automatically, Colin's muscles in his leg bent, readying himself. His fingers fell neatly into the sand, steadying for his leap. Those around him didn't even notice until the gong sounded.

By then, he was at full attention, mind expanding to fit the arena. His heart rate accelerated until it was pounding in his eardrums; his ears started to pick up all of the sounds, from grunts and groans, to horrific panting. Still, he was stock still against the fence, watching them all fan out.

One of the boys from the first compound made the beginning assault. His fist collided with the boy standing carefully behind him, and immediately, he danced away, sparking interest. Those who had been waiting for a diversion pounced, smashing fists into opponent's jaws, arms, legs, and faces. Colin still waited, watching how the brawl took over their minds like rabid dogs. Shaking his shaggy head, he began to sneak around the edges, studying the five foot eleven boy who was obviously taking the lead.

Smaller boys were at a major disadvantage, especially when his feet were like powerful hooves, coming up to catch their chests with large strokes. Strong, lithe arms swung, expertly making vicious contact. Sharp noises filled the arena, from the cracking of bones to the flat slap of a fist. This was not an opponent to take likely. There wasn't enough elbowroom to make an unplanned assault. He would have to start on the outside and work in.

Descending on a second year, Colin slammed into the back of the boy's heel with his shin, immediately sending him into the dust. Without so much as a thought, he punched the other kid furiously until he gave up and curled up, before dashing onto two more fighters.

Waiting until they were both entangled, he sent a quick chop to the back of their necks. Yelping, they whipped around to face him, cracking their skulls together. Frowning, Colin dove into the sand, waiting until another kid came blundering over him. Jerking his knee up, he aimed perfectly into the black haired boy's stomach. He fell over without so much as a grunt.

Wildly, he turned in circles, eyes wide, just waiting for a thrashing. The fighting was started to slump off; the groaning bodies were giving up, crawling away from the major noise and physical contact as cowards. Colin slipped forward into the melee, upper-cutting a third year so hard he heard the boy's neck crack.

He didn't stop. Now that he was full of adrenaline, and fury, he was having a hard time resisting the urge to smack the tallest boy. After all, he was public enemy number one it seemed.

So he complied with his inner wishes.

_**XXX**_

Talo could feel his skull pounding insistently; his heart was singing as his lungs expected to explode any moment. His muscles were shaking, but still, he was on his feet, fist still connecting steadily with other boys who approached him.

Just before he entered the ring, he had sworn he saw Colin, face sunken and nondescript. Before he could break rank, Bryk had ordered them to move forward, straight against the wall. Since the first division was the last, Colin probably hadn't seen him. Still, it unnerved him to be unsure. He had always been able to tell where his friend was.

The big guy was suddenly taken down, from a scrawny kid that couldn't have weighed a hundred pounds. Those few surrounding them were taken down within minutes after they tried to escape from the frenzied kid. That was for the best though; blood had come spurting through noses and mouths, each potentially hazardous.

Everybody was fighting halfheartedly, and, almost as soon as he wished for it, a gong rang, causing him to wince. Suffering blows to his head had not been the best start for this afternoon, especially from one of the huge third years. A hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle hurt.

The last few standing trudged to the fence. This was the way that the captains, lieutenants, and generals would choose their pages: with the boys against the fence like criminals. Talo wanted to spit. What a crappy way to end a perfectly good, sun-filled afternoon.

On second thought, the lazy, obsolete sun hadn't moved much. It was just like Malo. Slow and pudgy. It took up half the horizon, and was twice as hot as the morning. Stupid sun.

"All rise!" some noble suddenly shouted. Immediately, the boys scrambled to their feet, or knees, and snapped to attention, staring straight ahead. Talo wanted to rebel and shout something obscene. This place made him hack. He hated it. But he still went to attention.

Some moments passed before the Master said in a regal, poised voice, "Of all the pages assembled here, you have been chosen. You are the strongest, the highest." The huge slab of a man entered, nearly walking over some of the losing pages. "You still on the ground, you will be given ten minutes rest before the Honorary Guard will choose."

_What? I am going to be chosen?_

He could have fallen to his bloodied knees and thanked the Goddesses right then. But, like a proper soldier, he straightened his aching back, and let the relief wash over him like the warm water of the summer banks. Instantly, his mind screamed at him, suddenly rousing his stilled questions.

_What about Colin?_

Before he could sneak a glance down the line of eight surviving boys, one of the huge black warhorses screamed, stomping suddenly. Like a magnet, his eyes took an affronted glance toward the rider.

He was pierced by Cero's red orbs.

_**XXX**_

Ganondorf knew that it was time. Air smelling of sweat, grime, and fear assaulted his nostrils, causing the enormous black horse under him to shift, snorting. The supposedly 'toughening' housing units looked more and more like dull, breaking sheds, devoid of any life, or vibrancy. The sun beat down overhead, causing a trickle of sweat to slide between his shoulder blades. Even despite this hell, the boys were continuing to be soldiers, standing seemingly effortless.

Bryk had lined up all of the boys, mostly third years. They were all desperate incompetents if they hadn't made it this far in two years. That was why the High Prince hated coming down to the stocks. They all seemed like skinny cattle.

The thick sheet of incredibly expensive paper was in his hand, with the corresponding boy's name written out in spindly strokes resembling claws. It felt like a burden, riding him down further and further. He had the first choice; the one to make or break any of these children's innocent lives. If he chose correctly, he might have a page that hated the killing.

But that was unlikely.

Impatiently, he shifted in the worn saddle, catching the Page Master's wicked eye. The man came scurrying while shuffling his hands together, resembling a spider with the way he moved at a half-walk. His eyes were incredibly dark, a characteristic of in-bred villagers residing in well-to-do houses along the Palace Way. Ganondorf had never had patience for this man, especially his rudimentary training. The only reason this overgrown, foul-smelling pig was here was because Cero still held a position on the Council and vouched for the 'page training methods'.

The fat man scuttled over, lips spilling the soft words of, "My good Lord Prince, have you come to a decision?" They were whispered, and almost greedy, as his salary would take another leap, as it often did after these happenings. His sweat-slicked hands were grimy, rubbing together nervously.

Ganondorf knew exactly what he was thinking: If the High Prince refused any page this year, he was surely doomed to another five campaigns with Cero and his brawny page on the whim of the True King Ganon to make him realize why he needed a page. Of all years, this had been the best for bringing in pages. There were numerous brawny boys. The High Prince should have an easy picking. Cero would too.

_I will be a wiser, stronger, better master than Cero_, he promised himself.

Angrily, Ganondorf's lip twitched into a scowl. He simply handed the paper back to the man, a circle drawn precisely around the boy's number he would like. His eyes dared the man to ask questions, but wise enough, the Page Master retreated in the hay-scattered arena, bowing fervently.

Still questioning his decision, Ganondorf urged his horse away from the sun, back to the dark avenues of Hyrule City. With only a glance back at the slight boy standing uneasily, he shook his head. Perhaps, perhaps he would not be a cruel master...

With a jab from his heels, the horse immediately swung into the slick motion of the lope.

_**XXX**_

The choosing had been going on for nearly three and a half hours. In the blinding sun, Talo couldn't help but begin to sweat, heart thundering. Generals, lords, and dukes had come and gone, choosing their apprentices without a single word, only a circle on a piece of increasingly crossed out paper. It was like a death tomb; nobody dared speak, or put one toe over the sand.

It was hell, just standing and debating whether or not you would be chosen. Once the important nobles had come and gone, it was another hour while the soldiers chose. They too left on mighty steeds, no words of courage or wisdom to expend. It was terrible the way they were looked over, the watching eyes calculating and shrewd.

Talo wanted to slump to the ground, or at least stretch his legs, but obediently, he was completely immovable as he had been for hours. His dirty brown hair barely kept the moving, blinding sun from his eyes, and his jaw strengthened in disgust. Couldn't this just be over with?

Hours trickled on before the last Knight vanished. Sweat was pouring down his neck, through his hair. Finally, the Page Master called out, "At ease, boys! Get back to your dorms now or they'll be hell to pay! Come on, move it!" Standing at the end of the arena, he looked like a bullfighter, eyes narrowed and fat hanging over the belt of his grease-stained pants. "Get going! Hurry it up!"

Talo grimaced, but started after the others in a ragged, weary line. Whatever was going to happen wasn't happening now, and he was going to put his head down for a while. Obviously, he wasn't going anywhere for any reason until they called.

Just as the weary troop reached the large 'commons' shack, the pot-bellied man narrowed his lips, scanning over the boys and completely ignoring the sheets of paper folded into his vest pocket.

Talo felt a snicker pass through him, especially remembering the lessons Colin's mother had taught the boys down by the cool river, with her warm hand flowing over his as they read the histories aloud. At least somebody had cared to give him an education, even if it hadn't been his own mom.

Talo walked into the building, trying to shirk the man, but not before a meaty hand came out of nowhere. It clenched his shoulder, causing him to wince, and thrash away. "Hey!" he involuntarily gasped, fists rising instinctively. The man was staring at him. Bryk cleared his throat, grimaced, and glared at the battered boy.

"I would be afraid," the Page Master said quietly, "I would be very afraid."

"That's why you haven't gone anywhere in life." Talo felt his ears ring, wondering if the man was going to box him soundly.

Turning away, the aging man began to mutter something like a warning, huffing and coughing until he had regained his dignity. The few boys who had heard the exchange were laughing as much as their bruised ribs and lips would allow, mere shadow faces in the gloom. Talo felt his face flush before he crawled to the corner, uneasily watching the rest of them troop in. They were ushered around in groups, boys quietly whispering and bragging about the choosing.

Talo could only shake his head. Whatever was coming, it was going to be big.

_**XXX**_

Colin was crouched in the corner, listening to the Page Master monotonously give the positions verbally. There were many desperate looks interchanged between the selected boys. If anybody moved at all, it was a wince, or a nudge from a comrade. Since all of the Knights were idolized and studied, everybody knew who would help or hinder a page's progress.

"_To Lord Dethl…Shadow of Koholint."_

Still waiting, Colin's mind kept returning to a hazy village in the summer heat. Through his old memories, he could see the winding river heading to the secret pool, the best shaded place to sit by and catch plump fish; there was the sprawling valley where the oxen were kept, peacefully grazing; the long, winding trails in the forests, leading to the clean, healing waters of the spirit pool; and the blue sky, ever so brilliant, spreading the warmth of the sun…

"_To Prince Richard…Kaeru of Pothole Field."_

He was crestfallen. All of those happy times, all of the adventures away from caring parents, they were all in the past. They were being stripped away even as his wounded arm thumped in agitation. He felt his heart slow as he thought worriedly about all of the villagers. Bo, Ilia, Jaggle, Hanch, Beth…all were distant, mere images. As a Knight, he would never be able to go back again, especially as a page. Would they ever see him again? Would it be years before he saw his mother's face again?

"_To the Holy Knight Darmani…Darunia of Death Mountain."_

The baby?

"_To Duke Mikau…Ralis of Zora's Domain."_

His father?

"To the High Prince Ganondorf…"

He closed his eyes, clenching his fists, and making himself raise his head, paying attention once more. His family was gone; he was a son of the military now. His master would be the one to teach him everything, from tactics to determination. He would be the one person that Colin would be forever loyal to.

His new master would be his father.

"Colin of Ordon."

His name was unfamiliar; it had been some time since he had heard it spoken aloud. Shocked, he remained motionless in the corner as furious pages spit out curses, slapping others who had also groaned. Colin felt his heart racing wildly.

The High Prince...why had he chosen Colin? What had made him chose a farmer, a nobody?

"To the Lord Cero, Talo of Ordon."

Talo.

Talo was here.

Colin felt his ears explode, and the next thing he knew, he was stifling a laugh into his elbow, trying to keep from standing, and firmly declaring Talo a royal pain for not fighting him in the ring. They were both going to be Knights together, with or without their masters. From what he had heard, Ganondorf and Cero were the highest hopes for any page, let alone two friends.

But, for some reason deep within, Colin stayed crouched, eyes unmoving. To see Talo would be like seeing the village again, and doubting his loyalty. How could he do that, when he had been chosen by the High Prince himself? This was the military, with complete control of mind and body. That's what the Page Master had said. He was not the law, but the High Prince was.

Knights who had failed in their loyalty were beheaded. Colin knew he still had a few years to go, and starting off by running away was an excuse fit for only a babe. Not only that, but his pride would not allow it. He would stay. He would grow. He would return.

Bowing his head, he engraved those words into his mind, trying not to hear the others names being called, like animals to the slaughterhouse.

_I will stay. I will grow. I will return._

_**XXX**_

Cero couldn't contain his ecstasy. He felt like riding Janquil through a lightning storm, arms open wide for the power of the gods to take him. There was nothing more sweet than knowing that in a few hours time, the lonely, forbidden stretch between the Twilight Realm and Hyrule would be invaded, and another obstacle for the war would be removed.

His brother would pay. Forever.

Since he had proposed the idea to the power-hungry monarch and the evil man had listened, Cero knew that the High Prince was losing ground, even though he was still the heir. The King Ganon wanted complete control over the religions of old, and his son was not proving to be as useful as he first thought. That son of his, although a formidable politician as well as a warrior, had a rigid idea of the Twili, and he would not budge unless they made the first move. He was useless in matters of decision.

If the King told the public that the guardians of the pass had come to Hyrule on their own because of the Twilight invasion into their forests, the entire population would regain morale. They would want the war, passionate for final peace, wanting to gain lands to spread the ever-growing population. The Kingdom of Twilight would become the prized objective.

The Dark Knight was seated in the shadowy, worn eaves of the fine, marble-swept stables, waiting for Ganondorf. His father had wanted him to personally oversee the mission, and although he had regally put up a face to both his father and the council, the High Prince was not relishing this opportunity.

Cackling, the Dark Knight rolled his eyes at the thought of Ganondorf, the slime born from a Gerudo woman. Cero had never been able to understand the lack of wanting from his commander. The King had specific orders to bring back any rebels, or any beings they could find, no matter the cost. Ganondorf could not refuse those direct orders, specific in every detail as outlined in a costly sheet of finely scripted council paper that Cero was holding. Perhaps he would finally find his drive, fighting in the wilderness.

Taking a deep breath, Cero waited as some of the Knights arrived, drawing alongside him in the courtyard. They were waiting quietly, nervously for the High Prince, but of course, he would be late, trying to postpone the mission. He was always trying to trick his underlings, and they always took it as was. It was pathetic.

Grinning, the Dark Knight looked to the far mountains, knowing the passes that were hidden in the long valleys, the valleys of his once home. He knew that revenge, and the war, were on the brink of resurrection. All of these years wound down to this. His bones were quaking with the energy of staying still. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could see that despicable man ordering him away from the village, while nobody spoke for him even as they watched the unjustful leaving.

_I am coming, brother…_

_**0**_

_**0**_

_**A/N: Maybe some of you are wondering who all of the Dukes, Knights, Lords, etc…are. These listed above may or may not take crucial standings in the story, unless somebody can convince me otherwise. Back stories (histories) can be established, but only if I find a place to fit them into social meetings, crusades...the good stuff.**_

_**It's not that I don't like the idea of them taking place, I really don't know a lot of these, especially since I haven't played several of the games…Terrible, I know, but necessary for the very nice thing called life living right outside the door.**_

_**Lord Dethl- (Link's Awakening) This man is actually a physical form of the Wind Waker's nightmares known as "Shadow Nightmares". Since Link's Awakening takes place on Koholint Island, the page was vaguely constructed with these details.**_

_**Prince Richard- (Link's Awakening) True to the name, he is a prince who lives in Pothole Field with frogs. In Japanese, frogs are translated to "Kaeru", and since that name is pleasing to the ears and eyes, he was labeled as a page.**_

_**Holy Knight Darmani- (Majora's Mask) One of my personal favorites. I've always loved that goron Darmani, especially with the transformed green hat and scraggly white sideburns. Not to mention he goes much faster than Epona when he rolls. For his page, I think the baby goron (or the Elder's whining son) should be his apprentice. We'll call him Darunia (Ocarina of Time) because you can't have one without the other.**_

_**Duke Mikau- (Majora's Mask) This is another one of the coolest parts of Majora's Mask. Lead guitarist, Zora, and extremely expressionless, he's perfect for a bunch of politicians. I can guarantee he will show up, especially with Ralis in there. Ralis (Twilight Princess) is a Zoran Prince, and I would think that he'd make one hell of a King, all grown up. **_

_**There we have it, a complete run-down of some of the people. You'll understand why I couldn't use other favorites because of later events in the story. Still, we're off to a good start, and if you have any other suggestions, please send them in to me, via Review or Private Message.**_

_**Thank you for your time.**_

_**Lisilgirl**_


	6. A New Beginning

**_A/N: This is a completely new chapter. I wrote it in about two days...I was so excited to finally get back on track. Thanks a lot, guys!_**

**_Reviewers: Principessa Dell'Opera, la generala, abyssdoor, Seldavia, Vopi, 8.-'.-.'-Winddance-'.-.'-.8, Roolph, and Mikure._**

* * *

_**XXX**_

_A New Beginning_

_**XXX**_

At five o' clock in the evening, Colin found himself sitting on a bed. Although it was stiff as a board, it trumped the dirt-floors of the pages' barns in North Hyrule Field. To be honest, he was thinking about allowing his head to drop to the pillow that was also rock hard.

A few guards had come early this morning to retrieve the selected pages. Colin, stumbling out of the compact, hadn't really noticed the scenery on the way into the castle. Most of the journey was a blur. He stared at the grass and dirt, counting the steps it took until the city's drawbridge was creaking under his bruised feet.

The city had been grand, upon first glance. The towers of the castle stood straight and white in the daylight, and the roads had been swept clean of sewer filth and random pits of trash. The brown-haired people had curiously gazed at the boys, but had left to go on about their day without any troubles. It seemed fresh and vibrant compared to the compound.

But a few streets east, he had seen beggars and thieves, as well as some unsightly women wearing nothing but foul robes. This, it seemed, was the worst part of town: full of depression and poverty. There were children wandering around, eyes wide and suspicious of these new boys entering the city.

It was the guards that troubled Colin. They completely ignored any civilians, and once the entire group was in a small courtyard away from prying eyes, the soldiers began to prod and push boys into a side-wing of the palace like they were cattle. They journeyed through the numerous back halls -Colin remembered the directions from the 'Emerald Courtyard': left, right, right- in strict lines. Near the end of the small walkways, there was a lounge area, with rickety chairs, a bookcase full of tattered textbooks, and a domineering fireplace in the middle. The huge common had filled up until the room was bustling with movement and stifled noise.

At random, guards would pick one boy, place him in a room, gather another boy, and put him in a different room. There had been six or seven men each trekking down the hall, then returning quickly as he had gone. Boys scampered and moved when a guard's hand came down upon their shoulder. Colin, determined to get a last-minute spot, had tried to sneak around the western wall. As if luck had decided to take a holiday, Colin found himself shoved into Room 18.

That's where he was now. It wasn't so bad, if he got used to it. He wondered why the guards simply didn't put three of the closest boys into a room, moving down until there were no boys left. That would have taken less time and effort. However, Colin was pretty sure the men just wanted to waste each moment bullying the pages and not return to their real work.

A click sounded. Colin's head jerked up as a Goron walked into the room, angrily frowning at the shutting door. The kid was built; his muscles seemed years of growth layered upon pure muscle. He was tan, rather short and stout, and had bushy eyebrows. It was almost impossible to see the dark brown eyes. A blonde beard was starting to sprout along his jaw.

Colin knew he'd better make a good impression. Nervously, he nodded from his seated position, wondering if he should make the first move or not.

He didn't have to wait. The Goron boy harrumphed, "What are you looking at?"

"My new roommate, apparently."

"Hmph..." the newcomer harrumphed again, "I've waited three years to get here and I have to room with a first-year? Hmph!" His eyebrows furrowed as he lumbered over to the second bed, settling down on it with a thump. Dust flew out of the cushion.

Eyeing him, Colin shrugged. "I'm Colin."

"Darunia."

Awkwardly, the two sat for a moment before the Goron asked, "Are you that little kid who took out Dodongo with that roundhouse kick at the very end of the tourney?" When the boy opposite shrugged nonchalantly, Darunia's face suddenly lit up. "You were real, goro. I wondered who you were."

Colin laughed. "Those months training really helped me out. What ba-dorm were you in?"

"The second one, but I've been there for three years. I think most of the first-years were in there. I couldn't walk without stepping on one." He grinned, teeth shining white in his darker face. Shifting on the bed, he touched one fingertip to a bright ruby ring on his left hand.

Before Colin could strike up any more conversations- or questions about Talo- the door opened. Both boys looked up to find an extremely handsome, dark-haired Zoran in the door jam. The guards hadn't prodded him in; they were shutting the door quickly, but respectfully. Darunia and Colin exchanged glances.

The new kid was just opposite of Darunia; he promised height in years to come, as well as piercing green eyes. They were accepting in the face of his two new roommates. His skin was pale, with hints of typical Zoran green and purple. Dressed in rags like the rest of him, he somehow pulled off a regal air, respected and awe-inspiring. On his wrist was a golden trinket with a blue sapphire stabilized in a wreath.

He bowed. Darunia and Colin exchanged perturbed glances.

"I am Prince Ralis of Zora's Domain. I offer my greetings to..." he trailed off, clearly wanting them to give him their names. Colin hurriedly drew his eyes, smirking.

"Colin of Ordon." The smaller boy eyed Darunia, egging him to provide his name. The Goron, after staring at the Zora for a few seconds, harrumphed.

"Darunia...uh...of Death Mountain."

The Prince smiled at the offerings, and bowed. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance," he said. Quietly shifting, the tall boy asked, "Darunia? Are you perhaps the page set to study under the Holy Knight Darmani?"

"Yeah." The Goron's eyes glazed over in triumph as he said proudly, "It was my strategy to be beaten into a pulp by first and second years, so nobody would pick me." At Colin's doubting glance, he crossed his arms over his chest and continued hotly, "Darmani likes older pages with more experience."

Ralis bobbed his head, a twitch in his lips noticeable. "My master, Duke Mikau of Zora's Domain, speaks highly of the Holy Knight. Once, they served on a mission together. It was to help clear any debris built upon roads leading from the four compass provinces so the citizens of Termina could attend the Clock Tower Festival."

Darunia appeared taken back; he stared at the Zoran boy with keen interest. "I haven't met with Darma- I mean...the Holy Knight, yet. Maybe I'll ask him about Duke Mikau."

Both spoke for a few more minutes, nodding and making small talk. Colin tried not to feel envious. Both of them, apparently, were already going to be getting along. Would he be the odd one out here?

Like water, Ralis suddenly moved to the other bed. Once he was seated on the hard surface, and the boys were glancing at each other, unsure of what to say now, Colin sighed. As predicted, it drew Darunia and Ralis into conversation very quickly.

"That walk was unbelievable. I thought they were moving us out tomorrow."

"Apparently not," Darunia snorted, "Or else I'd not be with you two bums." He blinked a second later, as if realizing what he had said could be slanderous to a Zoran Prince. "Uh...no harm intended."

Instead of frowning, or launching into a tirade how he hated other races, the Prince's lip twitched in amusement. It wasn't a true smile, but Colin figured he probably was used to _not_ smiling to show politeness. Whatever. It didn't matter.

"So," he said, deciding to lay back to pass the time, "What brought each of you here?"

Darunia quit touching his red ring. When neither Colin nor Ralis decided to speak, only encourage him onward, he sat up straight, chest puffing with pride. Grinning, he automatically launched into a story.

"I'm from Death Mountain right? Well, ever since I could walk, us Gorons have been told stories of the great warriors. Darmani is one of them. He single-handedly destroyed a monster from a temple in Snowhead -heard of it?- and he refused to become a patriarch so he could come to Hyrule and become a Knight to bring peace to Termina."

"Sounds like you adore the guy," Colin said, not unkindly.

"Yeah! What other Goron can you name has helped out not just his clan, but his entire race! It's a privilege to work under a hero like him!" his fist pounded the air, and he continued on, "I spent years racing around the Goron Track so I could build enough strength to train. A lot of the patriarch's sons raced, and I managed to beat them. That's why when a recruiter came -along with Darmani!- they picked me. I was the fastest and strongest of all the kids."

Darunia shrugged, slowly winding down from his tirade. His face was flushed from the excitement of recalling such a time, and Colin found he genuinely liked the boy. He was softhearted, under all that gruffness. This was, apparently, his dream as well.

"My relation to Duke Mikau," Ralis began quietly, drawing their attention, "began when I was but a child. I often attended royal parties in the spring and summer with my mother, Queen Rutela. Of course, there were always fine ministers, and family members making an appearance, but the Duke was invited as well. Once, I spoke to him about the Hylians building their summer homes on the banks of Lake Hylia. We found ourselves debating about soil conversions -taking the mud and stabilizing it with trees- and the tentative foundations for the laboratory." Ralis' eyes narrowed with laughter, although he remained straight and tall.

"He was what all Kings of the Zora strive for: he was benevolent and kind to his people, taking time to help even a child. Yet, whenever danger appeared in the waters, he took his sword, wit, and courage to destroy any monsters lurking about. He once cleared one of our greatest temples from a giant amphibian. That's what I wanted to be, as a King, one day. This was my chance to broaden my horizons, and to interact with nations besides that of the Zora." Unconsciously, he bowed his head, clothes shifting on his back with the sound of water. Colin was terribly glad he hadn't had to fight the Prince; it didn't seem manly to take out such a beautiful creature.

Now, both of them were watching him expectantly. He laughed, drawing grins from both. "I didn't really have a Knight to look up to." That wasn't true, he realized, but they didn't have to know his adoration for Cero.

He rubbed a hand over his face, continuing, "I've lived in Ordon Village my entire life. Everybody there is married to friends of friends and relatives are like weeds: always popping up unexpectedly because a second-cousin married your mother's best friend. It was the day for offerings, and my father and I were expected in the capital that day. We took a gift -I think it was a shield-to the palace. Maybe my dad planned it, but we arrived in time for the Parade of Knights. One look, and I knew I wanted that life."

When neither Darunia or Ralis stopped him, he said, "Our legends were from ages past. A teenager set out to protect the village, and ended up saving the world. Supposedly, he was from our village, and became a Knight later on in life. I love my family. I want to protect them, just as my ancestor once did."

"That's great!" Darunia said, a chagrined look appearing on his face, "I guess I'm shallo-"

A bang suddenly came from the door; it was thrust open to reveal a crowd of boys striding down the hall in a mob. Ralis, Darunia, and Colin all shot to their feet, heading out without pausing. Ralis and Colin exchanged quick handshakes while Darunia pounded them on the back.

Immediately, Colin knew he had gained two lifelong friends.

**XXX THREE DAYS LATER XXX**

The breakfast hall in the morning was hardly exciting. Only Kaeru and Shadow monologuing in the corner and Darunia slurping down his glass of fresh milk had any entertainment value. All the pages were half-awake, including Colin. After a long, sleepless night laughing and talking to his roommates, he couldn't even focus; he continued to gaze at Ralis's emotionless eyes, searching for any sign that he was tired as well.

His last couple of days had consisted of attending classes that he was definitely _not_ good at. Sadly, his two roommates were on completely different schedules from him, since Ralis was a prince as well as a second-year and Darunia a third year.

He had learned very quickly that Ralis and Darunia were complete opposites, one filled with shrewdness and the other with outbursts of anger. They came from the waters and deserts, respectively, but they were somehow perfect friends, brothers in arms already. Their masters had chosen well, for both Ralis and Darunia's potential as warriors and intelligence was unlimited.

It had taken a while, but he'd come to a decision about Ralis. Darunia was simply wild, and fun-loving, with a strong moral and quiet heart. But Ralis...Ralis was incredibly regal, like a walking formation of dancing water. His eyes always appeared to be far away and pondersome, until you realized he always watched those around him like a hawk, filing and categorizing even his fellow pages. There was nothing that Ralis did not know about any of the politics of the castle, and what caused them.

Politics...Colin began to think about his day, sighing when he realized he had Statistics and Mastering Politics today. Statistics, with its probabilities and strange formulas made his head hurt. The professor was a wizened old man with bifocals that were nearly opaque with dust. Why would he ever need to know how many soldiers had knives, while others had swords, and how many horses were required for a ten day siege?

He had quite a bit of writing to accomplish, especially if the professor was going to demand it complete or not. There were only a few hours until the class would begin. Still, he refused to move until his Zoran friend had. As if he'd heard his friend's thoughts, Ralis suddenly blinked, and ate a spoonful of his mash. That was enough to bring Colin out of his trance.

"Do you want to go out riding later?" he said, catching Darunia's and Ralis' eyes, "I only have classes at eight and eleven."

"Sure thing, man!" the Goron boy laughed, chugging down another sip of milk. He blinked in thought once, then continued, "I got classes at...eight-thirty, ten, and noon. Could we head out around three?"

Colin nodded before glancing towards Ralis. The prince's lip barely moved as he stated, "Of course I will consider. My studies are held at nine and eleven this morning. If my master does not have any events planned, I am certain I can make it." He bowed his head, long fingers tapping on the wood.

They sat on the benches for a few more minutes in silence, quietly eating. There wasn't much to say; it was far too early, and the day had barely begun. Whatever news would arrive this day, the trio would speak of it later in the dorms.

Glancing at the clock, Colin shrugged, standing. "Well, I've gotta be off," he said with a grin, "I've got statistics, and a paper for Speech I haven't written yet. See you-" He began to wave just as the door to the cafeteria burst open.

Two men glanced around the hall full of silent boys, each bearing a red and gold cloak. The room stilled; each boy rigidly stood to attention, heads bowed. Colin found himself shaking. The guards always had to pick the pages in front of their peers, as if they were cattle. It was terrible.

_Please don't be me, please don't be me..._

"Colin of Ordon!"

Terrified, he straightened from his position, quietly raising his hand. The man on the right, clearly in change, motioned for Colin. Refusing to show his confusion, the page briskly strode over. Once he was within an arms' reach, the other one flicked a hand, roaring, "Back to your food!" Already trained, the other boys began shoveling the grub down their throats as fast as it would go, trying to avoid eye-contact.

"Sirs?" Colin found himself asking numbly, "Will-"

"No questions," the first one said sharply, "Consider today an empty day. You will learn how to properly dress and address the High Prince Ganondorf. A meeting has been scheduled at three o' clock this afternoon." As if this were common place, the two were escorting him towards the end of the building, passing windows so fast the light was blurring in Colin's eyes.

His mind went strangely blank, until, in pure shock, he remembered his planned activity today.

_There goes horseback riding._

_**XXX**_

Dressed in a leather tunic the color of rusty red, Colin couldn't feel more out of place. He was stationed in the grand audience chamber one room away from the High Prince, a man he hadn't seen up close before. Now that he thought about it, Colin was sure he had never seen Ganondorf in person.

Vaati, the grammar tutor (and strangely enough, his Speech professor), was staring in mock amusement as he usually did, eyes locked onto the door. Although he was trying to show that he was at ease, Colin was sure he was planning on ways to fail Colin from his classes. That thought was not promising.

In all honesty, Colin felt that his brain was exploding in his skull silently. He was overwhelmed by the day's productivity: how to dress in the presence of royal, how to speak respectfully to the High Prince without a rural accent, and how to salute without making a fool out of himself. Vaati had spent nearly four hours trying to correct every move he made. It was exhausting. His mind was spent, although his legs were strong and steady.

He almost didn't see the door open; Vaati nudged him into the shadowy room, catching Colin's eye to remind him of his manners. The guards, shrouded in black, didn't even glance at him as he was swept in like a dog.

Walking only a few feet, he was nudged to bow, and nudged to introduce himself in a strict manner. The words had stammered from his nervous tongue, and as his grammar tutors winced, the big man seated stiffly on his desk laughed.

The High Prince looked just like everybody said: tall and strong as an ox, with golden eyes. Strangely enough, he wasn't dressed like a prince. Traveling clothes, grays and browns, adorned his huge frame. His face was rough, but not unpleasant to look at. As his lips began to move, a strong voice came out.

Colin wasn't sure he was actually listening as he continued to gaze at the High Prince. All the words spoken from Vaati, Ganondorf, and himself seemed to be hollow and sluggish; Colin couldn't really distinguish actual words, only their meaning. It seemed to be going very well, Colin thought somewhere in the dark corners of his mind.

That's when things took a turn. Dismissing the guards, and a very upset Vaati, the High Prince invited him to have a seat. Unsure if he should continue to stand, or sink thankfully into the chair, his mind ordered him to the plush chair. He had noticed the way the enormous man watched him as he entered the room, golden eyes piercing and unfathomable. Guiltily, Colin tried to speak, informing the man of his devotion to his craft. His futile words were cut off in a heartbeat.

"Colin of Ordon Village," the High Prince said, "I hope you may talk with me whenever you feel it is necessary. As your master, I am responsible for your actions, but I would think that you are a loyal man. If you complete your studies in due course, and manage to become more intellectual than even your senior pages, I think we will come to understand one another."

Then, as if he had never been interrupted by the guards he sent away, the High Prince bade him continue, while seating himself at his mahogany desk. Trying a smile, the man asked, "Would you tell me of your home?"

Colin, relieved that Ganondorf was not going to ridicule or demand silence from him, was suspicious of him at first. Why would a prince need to know of Ordon Village? Slowly, he turned towards the window. Somewhere, deep to the south, his mother would just be settling down for the night. His father would be returning from gathering wood. Fado would be pulling in the goats...

Colin spoke clearly, telling the Lord Ganondorf of his village deep in the south. He relived memories in that light-enhanced room, watching the way the dust danced over the stained windowpanes. He wasn't sure how much time passed, only that the High Prince stood through all of it, nodding, chuckling in his deep chest, and commenting in the appropriate spots. Colin was reminded of his father.

When the sun began to set early over the mountains, the shadows grew long indeed. The seat was comforting; it swallowed the small boy up in the massive red arms. Colin watched the rays disappearing, quietly seated in the chair. Without him knowing, his eyes began to droop.

In the growing dark, Ganondorf looked up in the moment of comfortable silence. At first, the small boy didn't realize anything had changed. Slowly, he realized the High Prince was beginning to stand. Dressed in well-worn traveling clothes, he said, "Colin of Ordon, I find you intriguing."

Colin started in the chair, face changing to beet red. His mouth opened, trying to defend himself verbally, but Ganondorf shushed him again with a flippant wave. Facing the sun with his legs spread and his hands behind his back, his figure was part of the mountain ridge. He was only a silhouette framed in the brilliant sun, a shadow of the man Colin had heard about.

For a moment, he wondered how the people thought of him as tyrannical, cruel, and desperate for power. He seemed…lost as he gazed through the window. Anybody with the willpower to run a nation deserved respect, but this man seemed to be getting none, from the lowest servant to the highest noble.

"I am leaving for the north tomorrow, Colin."

The page stared at the man.

"I want you to learn as much you can in that time. I will seek you out when the company and I return, and we will have more discussions about what you have learned." He hesitated, and rolled his shoulders, massaging his forehead. He seemed to be debating. Colin uneasily stood by.

The large man sighed deeply, before glancing up with a small frown at the boy. With his golden eyes, he seemed to be staring straight through Colin. Despite the shivers crawling down his back, the page slowly stood at complete attention.

"It is my duty to train you in the arts of war," Ganondorf said suddenly, "Please, let us hold off for the time being. Begin to understand the world, and fighting will come naturally." A grim line set across his face. "You look like the kind of boy who knows how to work."

Colin wasn't sure what to say. Apparently, neither did the High Prince; he immediately began pouring over the mass of papers and documents on his desk. Seeing that the boy hadn't even budged, Ganondorf leaned back in his chair, and nodded, signaling to ease. The boy did so, feeling his back stretch.

"Thank you, Colin. You are dismissed."

As was custom, the page bowed deeply to his master. He counted to five in his head, trying not to mouth it. On six, he straightened, and turned, walking respectfully from the room. Vaati would have sniffed in disgust, but accepted it as paltry in the presence of the High Prince.

Within moments, he was in the grand audience chamber. Vaati stopped to speak with the guards, hands motioning to each set of stairs. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Colin hastily edged away from the door, heading back to his dorm room. The guards' eyes watched him until he vanished into the staircase.

_Ralis and Darunia will never believe this!_

**_XXX_**

Colin slipped into the dorm around eleven o' clock. Once he shut the door, he let his eyes adjust to the grayness, slowly defining his bed against the wall. Sighing, he padded over, tugging off his boots. From their beds, Ralis and Darunia continued to breathe deeply.

The weary boy tugged back the coarse sheets, and let his body ache. It seemed strange that he had spent all day trying to pronounce his words like Vaati before the evil professor made him bow, blink his eyes to show he understood, and salute. He hadn't even dreamt that simply being a page meant he had to learn polite court manners.

After all that trial and ridicule, the High Prince Ganondorf had only laughed, accepted him, and told him to study hard. He didn't seem anything like those stories depicted him. Maybe that was because the guards left, allowing him to open up.

Ralis and Darunia would probably wake in the middle of the night and demand answers (Darunia would be the one holding him upside down while Ralis calmly asked him exactly what had happened) but Colin had a strange feeling about his new master. Perhaps...perhaps the man was hiding something underneath. It wasn't evil, or the terrible front he put on. It was something within that made him...

Colin ran a frustrated hand through his sandy hair. No matter how hard he tried to pin down what or who Ganondorf reminded him of, he couldn't fit the pieces of the puzzle together.

No matter what happened, Colin wasn't going to give up anything about his new master. In the few minutes he had spoken with the High Prince, the man had completely won his loyalty.

_**0**_

_**0**_


	7. Speaking With the Prince

**_A/N: OH MY H3LL. I am so sorry I have been unable to update. It seems so unfair to keep you all waiting, but I have an excuse: FINALS. I only have a month left...(A heart attack is imminent)._**

**_This is mostly a repeat chapter. It still explains more, and doesn't stray off topic too bad. I added much of this in to previous chapters. I'm not going to lie: this is a filler. It blabbers on quite long. I tried to lighten it up with new sections. Hopefully you'll catch them! The sad part is that I haven't even written the next chapter yet, but most of the end is complete...XDD_**

**_TO SELDAVIA: At the end of the story, your question about Ganondorf and his father will be answered. Hopefully. _**

**_Reviewers: TheFinalCountdown, Seldavia, la generala, Principessa Dell'Opera, Vopi, and abyssdoor. I have let you down. I am terribly sorry._**

* * *

_**XXX**_

_Speaking with the Prince_

**_XXX_**

The snow was frigid; it stood in slumps nearly ten feet tall, over even the tallest villager's head. Though the winter had been late, into December, it had been vicious when it arrived. Within a few days, it made up for any and all of the slacking. Shops and roads were closed from the sudden increase of precipitation. Many children stayed home instead of attending schools.

The King had made a law against creating any snow caves, either to store produce and goods, or to hide in. Even though a few complained, it was not as serious as other recorded laws, and it was not uncommon to see children burrowing into it, and springing out in a blaze of white powder. There were snow ball fights along the lower southern wall, with tens of kids screaming and laughing. If the handful of schools held no classes, the teacher often took students out into the yards, and played with them until parents arrived to pick up the rowdy children.

In the alleyways that Colin remembered, there were deaths; he read about it in the city blotter. It was far too cold for many of those in poverty to keep warm; at least fifty had been removed and sent to a graveyard near the northern border of Castletown. Within the city itself, there were a few safe homes, but not enough to feed, clothe, and care for hundreds of people. Nobody was bothering to donate either. Many of the coats, pants, and gloves from the rich and famous were thrown into the garbage pits. It was ridiculous.

Colin was lounging on the steps of a rarely used courtyard near the west guard wall, simply watching the flakes drift over the looming walls. It was an enormous yard, complete with forty-foot high walls and fortifications, but it was so far off the path it was to the point of extinction. This was his only place of solitude, complete with an old iron-lock on one of the heavy wooden doors, and a wide, sweeping garden that was on the eastern ridge. There was only dirt under the large sluffs of snow, and a withered, gnarled aspen was rising quietly from the depths.

The snow had quit in time for the Knights and Generals -who had been gone for over two and a half months- to return safely. The horses in the long caravans had struggled to find solid ground on the icy mountain paths, and the huge drifts had cost several hours' progress. Still, after coming into the city, in nearly the dead of the night, there had been a bustle of activities; mostly with vague shadows pacing, and shuffling materials around from the last productive crop in the north.

Colin stretched in the cold air, letting his muscles fall back into their comfortable places, reminding himself to sit straight, like a nobleman. He still had trouble with keeping it directly straight, although he walked with the air of confidence in his step. In most of his studies, Vaati decreed his posture was the worse.

Since all of the masters had been gone, supposedly to give the pages a chance to prove their worth in their academic studies, some of the pages had banded together, naturally falling into select groups. Quite a few had let themselves go; they were only heirs to lesser Knights, and not royalty, noble blood, or foreign. The lesser Knights themselves were crude, often noisy, and ill mannered once they left their patrols, stations, and guarding at the end of the day. Some did not deserve to be Knights on any level, but because of their practiced skill, and the need of the Empire, they were kept.

Unlike some of the lesser Knights' chosen apprentices, Colin did not spend time gambling (although there was a secret society placing bets on the romances of the servants), gossiping (mostly from the servants), or failing his studies (from the boys who actually were gambling and gossiping). If he were to be under the High Prince, he could not afford to be so lax. He didn't have the urge to bet against something that could be changed with ony a quick word or feverish glance.

Fortunately, Ralis and Darunia felt the same way; both were subject to strict discipline, moral judgment, and intelligence above the 'pleasures' of the pages' life. The trio felt blessed to have been shoved into the rooms together. They studied until the wee hours of the morning; Ralis gave speeches, Darunia practiced geography and weather patterns, and Colin learned from everything. Teaching each other seemed the best way to get through the hours of long homework sessions.

Colin shivered to bring his mind back to the present, and pulled his cloak tighter, still uncomfortable even after months wearing the tight silks. It seemed irrational to be sporting the finest cloak, gloves, boots, tunic, and armor. The items had been given very proudly, very soberly to him from the tradesmen in town. Every single man and woman had reverently placed the goods in his arms, anxiously awaiting approval, which he promptly gave. He hadn't understood why until yesterday.

Like normal, he had been in the pages' wing, attending to his studies of Tactics. Other pages, besides Ralis and Darunia, had tended to avoid him after the first day. Without watching where he was going, his foot had caught a daydreaming, terribly young Knight by the knees. Both had fallen in a heap of Colin's papers. Expecting a harsh rebuke, and even a whipping, Colin had winced, gathering his papers, documents, and books.

Waiting for his punishment with a bowed head, Colin had been most surprised when the Knight had stammered, "S-Sir! I did not mean to disrespect." Confused, Colin had straightened, but the Knight was backing away, bowing as he went. He kept murmuring, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry...!" When he was out of respectful distance, he had scooted away, like a dog with its tail between his legs.

Thankfully, there had not been any person on hand to see this embarrassment. But it had bothered Colin for a bit, until Ralis and Darunia had eyed him, then explained the situation to him.

He was given respect because of the fear of the High Prince.

Since then, his clothes had taken on new meaning. Only now did he see they were the undisputed best. Every stitch, every silk, every pound of armor had been prepared especially for the page of the High Prince. It was tailored exactly to his knees, arms, and growing body. He suspected the citizens and tradesmen were trying to gain favors with Ganondorf discretely through Colin.

It irked him so much that it made him want to rip the clothes, and throw them into the mud in front of the worksmens' houses. Did the Prince know how his subjects felt? Why did he do nothing about their fear? Why didn't he simply acknowledge their skills before ordering garments for the rest of the pages?

When Colin thought about it, the High Prince Ganondorf had returned from the icy slopes along with the rest of them, if in better condition. However, as the experienced soldiers exchanged news and triumphant shouts about the goods from the north, the tall half-Gerudo had managed to slip away to his study, remaining unseen for quite a while. Only recently had he come from those dark, protected halls, appearing at political functions Colin wasn't invited to.

What had that meant? Colin wondered now. Ganondorf, the man and myth, seemed to be hiding out like a sinking rat. Following his master's orders to the letter, he had learned as much as he could in a short time. Weapon terms, geography, political views, even the projected population swarmed his head when he wasn't thinking about them; he learned quite a bit but certainly not enough. Two months was nothing compared to the years he would spend serving the Empire.

The boy from Ordon Village wondered about who his role model was to be in the remaining weeks to come. Because of his diligence and thoroughness of his assignments and lessons, he was almost finished with his basic scholastic training. It could be said that there were others in his class ready enough to move on, but they were not waiting for the High Prince's approval.

Understanding and memorizing the geography of the lands close to Hyrule was difficult. The lands were vast and challenging, with certain ranges of mountains, incredibly dangerous lakes and rivers, and the oceans located over the huge Gerudo Deserts to the west. There were places where the sun never shone, and places where it would kill you if you stayed in its ray for longer than four minutes. The entire world was one giant cocoon, oftentimes wrapping around itself to provide hidden caves, goat trails, and large gaping canyon mouths to other lands. Even some of the major highways were blocked in certain seasons.

Statistics was worse than any of the many classes though. For some reason, Colin was unsure of the secure gorges to escape from guerrilla forces, and the way a military 'lesser Knight' squad should be sorted if you wanted to approach an enemy from forty-five degrees. It made no sense, especially when you were a thousand troops short, and had impending doom on your heels. Wouldn't it just be easier to negotiate? Perhaps make a contract for usage in between two lands?

He knew all about the conquests of Ganon, Ganondorf, and even the ancient legend of old, Agahnim. They had all led ancient warriors into battle against the mysterious Kingdom of Twilight and Termina, often destroying the rustling forests, steady mountains, and deep valleys in between. Those wars were always cruel; corrupting the humble homes of villagers as well as the palace estates of the pompous dignitaries was no stretch for them. How long ago it seemed! The dates were labeled in the old script; the new dating system had not been put in place. It was simply: the Age of the Hero of Time, the Age of Darkness, the Age of the Seas...

Would Ganondorf be proud of him, for knowing all of the warlords' pasts? Was he proud to bear the name Ganondorf, the name of evil's son? There were so many questions Colin wanted to ask, but he was sure now was not the time. This would be a quick meeting, then he would be dismissed and all would be well.

Letting his blonde hair fall gracelessly into his eyes, he watched the sun climb steadily higher, even as the hour reached three o' clock. Soon he would have his meeting with his master in the Study. Once he was there, his true test would begin. His lean muscles flexed as he rose to his feet, hands patting away the thin layers of dust from the expensive fabric.

It would not do to sully the clothes.

_**XXX**_

The High Prince, and Heir to the Throne of the Provinces of Hyrule, Ganondorf was waiting for him, almost in the exact position Colin had left him all those months ago. Standing effortlessly in front of the enormous fifteen-foot windows, the Prince seemed to be sunk to insufficient in the entire luxurious study. After all of the battles and crusades, he was still only a man, whereas the ominous, jagged peaks in front of him were the gods. He seemed to be part of it, though, and effortless in his strength.

Now, in the daylight Colin could see the scarlet drapes climbing like ivy up the grand marble columns, clasps hooking into hidden niches. Slowing his feet, he walked into the scarlet-hued area before Ganondorf. Once within five yards, his pale arm automatically crossed the dark fabrics stretched across his chest, and perfectly, flawlessly, he bowed from his narrow waist. Vaati would have grumbled respectfully.

When he rose, Ganondorf was watching him, chin defined in the murky light. Gold eyes the color of the setting sun gazed back at the boy. His armor was thin; his huge body underneath filled the armor out, lined with muscle and grace. The red flashes came from the crown of ragged hair and his neatly trimmed beard. On his brow, the symbol of the High Prince stood like a beacon. A wicked white blade was sheathed in a scabbard of ebony leather at his side.

Colin hadn't realized how dominant and powerful the heir to the throne seemed when he was standing. That power and divinity made his knees begin to shake; refusing to give in, he bowed and straightened his back once more. Stilling his breath, he said as smoothly as he could, "You called for me, your Highness?" The words were practiced, but actually speaking to the prince, it became shallow and condescending. Colin winced.

The monarch did not speak. Seeming to gather his words, the huge man swiveled, facing Colin. His eyes speared the boy's, impressing the authority given onto him. Then just as the knees of his page were going to give in to panic, the Prince sighed and moved towards the mahogany desk, unclasping his gauntleted hands to grip the edge of his desk. The rough skin scraped like sandpaper over the wood.

"I did," he said, voice unbreakable as steel, "I would like to know how your training is coming along. Would it be proficient enough for me to understand?" Leaning back in the stiff wooden chair, he continued to penetrate Colin, almost unknowingly.

Colin did not hesitate. The memorized words poured from his mouth as he described his hourly classes, the tough efforts of the political scene, current events in the capital that held symbolism, arithmetics, writing speeches and letters...His lips felt chapped, and his throat was dry as he continued to speak, trying to use all that Vaati had taught him when speaking to one of royal blood. Small remarks were passing through his head. The carpet needed to be cleaned, his legs were shaking, would he ever talk to the King?, when was the next Council meeting, how did Ganondorf stand through all of this?

After a few minutes, the page began summarizing certain aspects of his new life. He did not mention his friends that had helped him study; Ganondorf might think he was trying to win them favors. Quietly, he said, "I have been excelling generously in the politics, history, and geography of Hyrule, as well as lettering and-" Hesitating for only a moment, he forged through his mind, head lowered in shame, "-I have not quite grasped the statistics." Letting a grim smile of disappointment cover his face, Colin finished, "All in all, I think I've been trying with all my ability."

"…it seems you have been doing more than that."

Disbelieving and offended, Colin's head snapped up, furious at the accusation of his studying. He had put in more hours than any of the other pages, excluding Ralis and Darunia. How could this man, who had only spoken to him once before, know so much about him? Were his spies finding ways to intrude upon the pages' privacy? It sounded just like his old life! He had tried to get away from all of that gossip!

The words spilled off his tongue, "Your Highness, I've been trying harder than anybody else in my class, even some of the pages assigned to nobility-" Horrified, the boy realized he had spoken to his father in Ordon in the same manner the day before he had been called to the palace...

"_I've done so much more picking than anybody in this village! How many bushels have you sold because I've worked hard? I deserve a day off...!"_

Ganondorf laughed, abruptly cutting off the words and his page's confused memories. Colin stared, anger pulsing in his chest as he defiantly glared at the Prince. Despite that, guilt also was prominent in his mind.

But with a wave of his hand, the towering man rose, laughing, "Colin of Ordon, I believe I am pleased with your growth in several months. Truth be told, I had expected no less of you." His eyes flashed, but not in the same penetrating way. Now, they seemed genuinely amused.

Unsurely, Colin's mouth curved downward, and his eyebrows furrowed as he shifted impatiently. "Your Highness-"

"Ganondorf. Please. I get enough of that in public. If we are to trust each other in the months to come, it would be wise to speak to each other as equals." He was studying the ground in front of the palace again, eyes sweeping around to follow movement of the villagers clothed in rags. He seemed to see the ramshackle huts, and the barely smoking chimmeney's out in the stockyard. The tents weren't even flapping, although the snow was falling like a storm.

Colin took it in a stride, relieved to have the formal words removed from his mouth. Like a loosened nail from the strict routine, Colin stated cryptically, "Sorry, but I don't quite follow."

Moving surely like a lion, Ganondorf rose from his lounge, armor clinking. He was smiling, although it seemed foreign to him, and although his mouth was struggling to find places for his smile, it definitely came into his eyes. Colin could only stare at him.

"I am sure you misunderstand. I was not trying to offend you."

"Then what? What have I not done?" Colin's fists clenched.

"In truth, I am shocked that you would throw yourself so fervently into your studies. Even though I was away-" his face clouded "-you have remained true to your expectations as well as mine. Did Vaati try to make you practice every word to get rid of your country dialect?" Seeing Colin gape, then flush red, he laughed, "Do not worry. I am glad there is still resistance somewhere out in the world."

There was an abashed silence from Colin's general direction. All he could think about was his family's accent, and how it had seemed so natural to speak. In only a few sentences had he reverted back to that, after months of training?

Ganondorf's hand on his shoulder caused him to frown again, and come back to the present. The boy glanced up into the eyes, and heard his master's voice rumble, "I would much rather prefer a rough-speaking citizen of Ordon than the back-stabbing politicians."

He walked away, pacing again. Barely able to watch, Colin rubbed his temples, feeling the ache building. The question in his head was hitting him hard, the one question he had been wondering for months and months. Finally unable to contain it, he felt his lips move, and was shocked that something came out confidentally.

"Sir?" he asked, "Why…?" His voice failed him, because he realized how rude his previous question would sound. Thinking, he slowly thought out loud, "Why did you go north? Aren't most of the crops already destroyed? Ours would be back home." He saw Ganondorf stiffen, and he panicked. "I'm sorry, sir. You don't have to answer."

It seemed all of the tension had come back, thick as honey. Colin wanted to slap himself, but restrained, straightening his back. When the monarch made no move to leave the window, Colin asked quickly, "I have never learned to ride a horse. Could I go to the stables and have somebody train me later today?"

Ganondorf shook himself, and answered dully, "The snow is too deep for that. You will come back tomorrow, and we will discuss your studies further." When he saw Colin's nod, he bitterly explained, "We are not through what I wished to cover. I will explain how I would like your studies to progress. You are dismissed."

Only bowing, Colin hesitated. "I am sorry sir, about the north. I'll come tomorrow at ten." Ganondorf did not answer, and not wanting to wear out his welcome, Colin walked from the room, his footsteps resounding on the wood.

When he shut the heavy door, it sounded like the closing of a tomb.

_**XXX**_

Standing once again in front of the window, Ganondorf watched the village far below, seeing the people, with families, lives, and dreams, wander and stroll about the cobblestone courtyard. Looking closer, he noticed that the clothes they wrapped themselves in were shabby and threadbare. It was made worse by the drifts and howling wind.

_Why hadn't he told Colin?_

He shook away his thoughts, dangerously settling back into his wooden chair, feeling it press its ridges into his spine. Sighing, he thought amusedly of the way the preened, educated page had turned back into a boy from the country, excited and confused, but haughty and humble enough to say that he didn't understand. It seemed he had received a gift from the goddesses: a boy who used his brains instead of brawn.

The High Prince remembered why he hadn't wanted to acquire a page. They were too young. Even raised in harsh conditions, taught to be vicious and cruel, they were only children. Sixteen was much too young to go to war. Always too young to know the truth.

When his page had entered the room, Ganondorf had slipped the letter from his father into his pocket. It had rested there, a heavy weight reminding him that a barrier existed between he and his page. As the boy had spoken about his trivial (although they weren't trivial) lessons, Ganondorf had not been paying close attention. He had wondered how he could bring the page under his wing without threatening the boy's innocence. He could not think of a plan yet.

He pulled the letter from his stiff pocket, touching the frayed edges before opening it.

_To the High Prince Ganondorf;_

_On behalf of Majesty Ganon IV, Descendant of the Vanquisher of Evil Ganondorf, the rightful Hylian and true King, I commend you on your successful excursion against the north. Retrieving such valuable supplies in the condition they arrived deserves a high reward: 1,000,000 rupees has been placed in your account in the treasury. The King insists you attend the debriefings in the future, and discuss a win/loss ratio with Knight Cero. _

_My master requires that you continue to check upon our items, and see to it that no harm befalls them. After several months, perhaps you could decide what to do with them...?_

_If you wish to speak to our majesty, please contact me on the third floor suites. I would be obliged to set up a meeting._

_My regards,_

_Sakon II_

Ganondorf folded the letter for the tenth time, anger a bitter taste in his mouth. His father, unable to speak to his own son, had required his personal scribe to send this. It had been settled on his desk not an hour after the caravans had pulled into the Tower. Nothing had irked him more than seeing no hide or hair of his father. It was with that mentality the King would have them go to war with Twilight.

Watching the sun finish its descent into the black, and as the first bits of starlight appeared, Ganondorf slumped over his desk, willing it to all go away.

_**0**_

_**0**_


	8. Fear

**_A/N: I DEMAND AT LEAST TEN REVIEWS BEFORE I WILL UPDATE. _**

**_Reviewers: TheFinalCountdown, Seldavia, Vopi, and Principessa Dell'Opera. You all deserve loyalty badges._**

* * *

_**XXX**_

_Fear_

_**XXX**_

Duke Mikau sat.

The noise around him was intense; hundreds of bodies were packed into the senate seats and every single mouth moved. There were merchants, local shop owners, and wealthy Hylian families, to royalty, ambassadors, and famous dignitaries. He knew what question was on the minds of those present.

Was the war to become final today? Why had the session been opened to the lower merchants? Were the rumors of the military mobilizing true? Would the King arrive as well as the High Prince?

The Zoran man shifted in his seat. He was becoming increasingly concerned, especially when he saw yet another face: Mr. Gorman, the wily businessman from Termina. That man, along with ten other newcomers, had been invited to come to this Council Session at the behalf of King Ganon IV. They were the first to prosper if any war was commenced, especially if they sold crops to the townsfolk for more money. Gorman would be wallowing in gold by the end of the year.

Mikau had seen war before as a child. In Zora's Domain, the gates had been bashed down by goblins. Homes in the cavern walls were crushed, and once winter set in, the foul enemies had stopped the flow of water until the falls had been frozen solid. It had nearly destroyed his fragile, ten-year old life.

His father, Lord Jabu-Jabu, had promised that if the Zoran people prayed, the Hero of Time would come to save them. The Zoran Royal Family had agreed, and held out despite the goblins.

It was a picture that all had painted in their lifetimes: a golden-haired Hylian, sporting the triforce on his left hand, would arrive, and vanquish evil with only a wave of the famed Master Sword. The King of the Zoras had promised his young daughters Rutela and Ruto that all would be well.

Over four generations Jabu-Jabu had waited. It had not happened that year, nor the next. As he watched his father die -he was still hoping for the Hero- Mikau had discovered that steel in his hand and courage had saved more lives than a fairy tale.

The Duke glanced at his page. The boy was emotionless, a perfect politician. Although this was a solution Mikau had never thought of, he was slightly unnerved. None of the boys had heard of the Triforce, or the Hero of Time, or the Evil One. There was nothing stopping them from upsetting the Goddesses, especially when a miracle had not been seen for several generations.

At his right, Lady Veran was sitting smugly in her seat, not bothering to speak with him. She was a devil hiding in the body of a Twili -with a Hylian citizenship- and she certainly hadn't made it to owning her estate by being coy. If she found something she wanted, it became her obsession. Judging from her relationship with Knight Cero, she wanted this war; profits from her illegal arms race would sky rocket if trade was to be cut from Twilight.

"Sir?"

Mikau shifted slightly to the left, where his page was shifting through a few source materials on the counter. The duke studied his charge. Ralis, the precocious young Zora, had attended most meetings with him; he wasn't blind to all that happened in the realm of politics. He showed great potential and intelligence as a Prince, but as a leader, he would be great.

Mikau nodded, showing he was listening. Emotionlessly, Ralis said, "Sir, I believe the King is arriving."

The fanfare was indeed beginning: A few royal guards were blocking the King's box, while the officials of court were notified. Trumpeters were puffing their cheeks, practicing for the clear ringing notes declaring the King's arrival. In contrast, very few of the senators and merchants even knew anything was happening.

Ralis had promise.

The presenter suddenly exclaimed, "Please rise as we present our Majesty Ganon IV, descendant of the vanquisher of evil Ganondorf, the rightful Hylian and true King!"

The crowd stood. Strict silence descended; all those gathered bent at the waist with a left hand on the right shoulder. As one, the trumpeters blared regal notes up into the banisters. Guards, with their shining metal swords at attention, appeared and set a thin veil across the King's Box. Duke Mikau glanced towards Lady Veran.

She was smiling innocently, but further down the row, Lord Dethl grinned up with pure amusement at the somber welcome. Mikau felt his blood begin to race. There was something maniacal going on between those two, along with Lady Majora, General Onox, and Lord Bellembeck.

Instead of being spread as they once were, the small group of men and women had relocated. Sitting with three chairs of any member of the faction, messages could be passed back and forth without effort. Mikau had seen this first hand: Cero had left a document on the floor behind General Onox's chair, and the man had bent down to 'cough'. It was disgusting.

A shadow moved across the curtains. Like a god, the King settled into the box. Immediately, the trumpets blared a triumphant final note. Polite clapping as the assembly bowed faded after a few minutes. Igos du Ikana suddenly rose from his pedestal.

"We are gathered here in the Emergency Council Session 387 to discuss the future outcome and manifestation of the sin of war. With the acceptance of our reigning monarch Ganon, I would continue." Igos bowed in the direction of the box.

There was no hesitation. King Ganon regally nodded, sitting straight in his chair. Duke Mikau glanced towards the Prince's box. Ganondorf was shifting uncomfortably, a blank look over his face. Obviously, he was not very pleased.

Igos straightened and called, "For the past three years, there have been incidents, deaths, and quarrels between the people of Twilight and ourselves. A total of 249 deaths and injuries have occurred that Twilight will not account for, and without them, the truth of our records have been damaged. Once, we were proud to call this place 'a hub of all learning' within the few countries bordering Hyrule. This validity is turning.

"From the front doors, there are Terminian politicians and merchants among us. We have called you here for you are our most trustworthy friends, and it is you who have been among us. In war, we call you our companions. We hope that hearing our testimonies, you will take this mantle up again." He stopped for a breath, before continuing, "I call the Knight Cero to this stand."

Immediately, a figure moved from the upper stands. Moving like a shadow, the military man headed down the long aisles. When he reached the lower banister, he raised his hand. Igos du Ikana thundered, "Do you take this court into total confidence, with action and mind?"

His red eyes glowed. Mikau stiffened.

"I do."

"Then arise, Lord Knight Cero and take into confidence your sign." The man stepped down from his pedestal, allowing Cero to climb to the top. Once he was standing before the crowd, he shifted, readying himself.

"As people, we were destined to rule this earth. The weak -at heart as well as mind- may survive, but only with the help of the strong. Animals do not live by this: they slaughter their own young, and kill any stranger who decides to enter their domain. We, as the noble race of Hylian, have not fallen to their level. We allow and rejoice in united persons with our fellow races to the west and east.

"The Kingdom of Twilight does not. Their Queen, Princess Midna, has often enslaved Hylians and has ruthlessly taken property. The borders have been in dispute every since those animals declared their sovereignty. At first, they claimed it was on scouting trips, and that they had 'discovered' the carnage. Would this be true if the lion found a cripple deer? Instead of helping, the lion would reduce the deer to little more than bones."

He suddenly sat straight, "Twilight is determined to end our empire! For generations, we have had the divine right to rule this place. Can we allow them to encroach upon our livelihoods? If we do, what will be next? Perhaps our crops? Our animals? Our _families_?" Cero's fist pounded the stand, with murmuring rustling around the room.

"We are a people: a people with hopes and dreams, and histories that have been integrated so firmly into this land that even thinking about leaving would be blasphemy! All races are welcome here, whereas they are estranged in other countries. This is the most peaceful, but also the strongest and most loyal in the continent.

"What more can I say? It does not take so many words to describe how this Council is feeling: unpatriotic. My comrades! This is the time to stand and fight against a threat to our justice! Rise, country men!"

The crowd was in a state of shock; that, at least, was clear. After what Cero had described, it seemed like the whole country had been wasting time and energy on the border squabbles. Now, here was a country to scapegoat for the crops lost, the drought, and the terrible winter. Despair sank into Mikau's chest as General Onox suddenly threw his body up and began to clap. Lady Veran, and Majora weren't far behind. Only Bellembeck was slow, rising like a behemoth.

Like sheep, the masses stood, applauding the raven-haired man on the stage. A few calls and cheers rang out, but in the presence of the king, it was unwise to declare utter joy. At the center of the noise, the Dark Knight let a fiendish smile cross his face. No one seemed to notice. Instead, he hid ecstasy, bowing to the King's box and du Ikana before he left the box.

"Further comments?" Igos du Ikana snapped into the microphone, briskly moving the session to a close.

There were none. Igos sniffed, before nodding to the guards. Regally, they pulled back the massive doors, allowing sunlight and fresh air to bombard the stuffy Council Room. Council members, lesser royalty, and guests eagerly waited for the monarch to do something.

The silhouette on the high banister remained unmoved. Despite the applause, the King had not stood to directly address the Council. His decision had not been decided. The drapes moved as he stood. Immediately, the members stood and bowed in one smooth motion. The trumpeters once again called the anthem of the king as he slipped behind the brick walls. The guards stationed in the booth retreated. Once his shape and guard vanished from sight, the mass began to roar with questions and comments to fellow Councils.

Ganondorf, on the lower seated platform, was quiet, face like stone. His eyes were on fire.

_**XXX**_

Darmani wanted to pound some rocks under his fists.

The council session had been one of the worst he had ever gone to. Honestly, what was so great about a bunch of whining Hylians? Gorons at least could be still. The whole time, papers were shuffled, men coughed, and the women sighed. It was very rude.

Anyway, he was furious. Lord Cero was a complete idiot to want to declare war on Twilight. Darunia had been amongst their people. Slow to anger, the tall, elegant folk were deadly once provoked, and under the mountain, a forge was settled; it was massive enough that would make a Goron jealous. Those weapons weren't just iron or steel either; magic was infused in materials. Hylians had lost their spiritually once the Chosen of the Goddesses left the land. They were no match for the dark sorcerers.

The one positive side of the meeting had been how well behaved Darunia was. He sat still, only his eyes betraying his feelings. For a third-year used to brawling, the boy was strangely quiet and withdrawn around his superiors. It was a trait that Darmani knew would take him far, especially with his latent battle prowess.

His hand fell upon Darunia's shoulder. "Let's go," he grunted, standing. The floorboards creaked under his feet, but he shifted until he was on the brick steps. Grumbling to himself, he began to leave the building with the page at his back.

"Holy Knight!"

Darmani halted instantly, frowning darkly. He hadn't wanted to stay and speak. Still, he wouldn't refuse talking with his old friend. Allies were needed in this war.

"Duke Mikau...I'll bet you're ready to take up the staff again, eh?" His hand gripped the chilling one. "If you were built a bit better, goro..."

The Zoran bowed, black eyes drowning his emotions. "Of course. Wouldn't you, if you were stuck behind desks and managing diplomatic ties?" His hand beckoned towards another smaller figure behind him. "Have you met my page, Prince Ralis?"

The two had a close enough appearance, Darmani had to look twice. "A page? I've got one too. Darunia...?" He took motioned Darunia, and the two boys bowed. Instead of shaking hands, the two races embraced. Darmani and Mikau paused for one moment.

Ralis immediately stated, "We were in the dorms together, along with Colin." His long fingers delicately pointed out Ganondorf's box. "Colin is under the care of High Prince Ganondorf."

Darmani paled. That boy would be up to his neck in enemies.

"Come," Mikau said hastily, "I must speak privately with you, Holy Knight. Ralis, please entertain our friend." His regal head inclined towards Darunia, who bowed respectfully back.

The two older friends walked from the Council Room, and into the blinding sunlight.

_**XXX**_

The lines meant little to him, Colin decided. There had to be hundreds of them neatly inscribed on the thin sheet of papyrus. X's and 0's dotted enemies and allies, while there were certain symbols representing cavalry, foot soldiers, and commanders. All of this was printed neatly on a topographical map.

As an essay, it would have to be completed in three hours to receive any credit for his statistics. He groaned, hitting his head against the desk top. This was a review for his final exam, and although it was a freedom test, it was far from easy. What would any professor get out of grading such a test?

If he made one mistake, it would be slashed five points. Out of a total of 450, he was sure his score wouldn't make the passing cut...

An unintelligible chuckle came from Ganondorf. Colin glared as the man continued to sort through his papers. His face remained smooth, without any laughter around his eyes. When neither of them moved, the young boy threw his hands up, immediately drawing the large man into his conversation.

"Honestly. I can't believe you would say such a thing. Didn't you ever have to take an essay exam?"

Ganondorf nodded in sympathy. "'As a High Prince, my position upon this issue has been denied and rejected.'" He blinked, hand hovering above the paper. The ink swelled before he hastily patted it on a blotted rag.

"Honestly!" Colin sniffed.

"It's the rough draft on behalf of my opinion of today's council meeting." His lips twisted. "I was simply stating the facts." He stretched in his chair before hunkering back over the paper, hands writing thin script. The boy watched him. It seemed strange how elegant the Prince was, despite his huge bones.

Speaking with Ganondorf had become Colin's therapy from this cruel world. It seemed that he had more time, especially since the knights were eager to train their new pages in the arts of war. The High Prince did not bother with that; instead, he and Colin would settle in the enormous chair in his study, and speak of all things in the world. It was relaxing to not think about the war ready to be waged.

The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to be like Ganondorf. He was a strong and charismatic leader, with a strong moral standard. The people respected him. One day, he would become a King worth remembering.

"Colin," Ganondorf suddenly spoke, "Will you excuse yourself? I need to complete this before the morning." A wry grin fit onto his face as he leaned back in his chair, relaxing for only a moment. "The King needs to discuss the official royal opinion later."

Disappointed, the page nodded, immediately gathering his supplies from the floor. He bowed. "I'll see you tomorrow, then?" His hands expertly moved the paper and pencils into his backpack.

"Of course."

Colin left without a glance back. The sentries, accustomed to his presence, did not even budge. His boots were muffled by the red carpets. Yawning, he tugged his cloak tighter. He frowned.

The small boy still had a feeling of unease built into his chest. The High Prince hadn't offered to invite Colin to a public meeting, although Ralis and Darunia had been present at some of them. Though Colin's master was incredibly talented and intelligent, he seemed to have a darker side; in their discussions, sometimes he never really paid attention, only nodding and gazing out the large window.

Colin realized it had been one of those days.

**_XXX_**

Talo could feel the numbers quickly adding up in his head, while he hastily wrote known strategies on a piece of scratch paper. He instantly drew a straight line from the hills down towards the valley in a surprise attack, breaking the fourth armada of Twili soldiers and dividing their forces in two. Then, he separated the two massive groups, one heading north to the supply tents, and another distracting and killing the enemy in the center of the field.

Hopefully, whoever would be correcting his essay would understanding that if it were Lord Cero who led, this attack would be unstoppable.

He glanced toward the window. Stars were glinting in the huge blackness like little eyes, watching him with an ill intent. The bags under his eyes were nearly etched onto his face. He hadn't been sleeping well.

Lord Cero had been a hard master. It wasn't as if he physically attacked Talo; no, he was very courteous and elegant toward the young boy. He provided shelter, clothes, food, and training as a master should. Sophisticated and powerful, he was everything that Talo could strive to be.

Despite that, Talo never forgot the look Cero had given to a new soldier who was afraid of going into combat. They had simply been joking, sparring in the courtyard, and the Dark Knight demanded a match. The man's face had drained of color, and with a staff clenched in his hands, he agreed out of fear more than anything.

Cero had sent him back to the barracks with two broken ribs, and a concussion.

Since then, Talo had been wary.

His master was harsh, yet he had reason to be. Ever since his brother had betrayed him, the Hylian's sense of trust had been severely warped. There was nothing to fix it. And certainly a first year page could not convince him.

Talo decided to watch the Dark Knight with two eyes.

_**0**_

_**0**_


	9. Just a Fairy Tale

**_A/N: I'm glad that people noticed the awkwardness in the last chapter. It is not rushed. It is supposed to be that way. The reason I haven't described Ganon is just what it seems: nobody EVER sees the dude. EVER. He's a _****_shadow of evil_****_. And Ganondorf, despite 'connecting' with Colin, is treating him the way his father always treated him. _**

**_I also want to thank Sage of Silence for mentioning the 'microphone'. I'm really sorry if I actually said that, but this story is meant to take place like that, and I really couldn't see a council meeting without a sound amplifier. Imagine a cone that everybody is yelling out of...?_**

**_Hopefully somebody can tell where the 'Goron Embassy' is. I would encourage you to visit it in Twilight Princess. It's where I would live._**

**_Reviewers: Vopi, Seldavia, Principessa Dell'Opera, Mikure, la generala, TheFinalCountdown, Fyras 14, and Sage of Silence._**

* * *

_**XXX**_

_Just a Fairy Tale_

_**XXX**_

The stables smelt like fresh straw, dried sweat, and grain. Colin took a deep breath, grinning at the familiar scents; somewhere in the back of his mind, this was what _home_ smelt like. A few horses nickered as he wandered past. A dun on his left eagerly barged his chest on the door, leaning his neck as far out as it could go. Smiling, the teenager petted its nose before continuing on.

In the tack room, the saddles, bridles, and training equipment gleamed. Obviously, an intern had been forced to do some polishing recently. Colin remembered doing that a few weeks ago, and his hands still hadn't healed.

Ralis should be coming along soon. They had decided a few days ago that this was the only free day that either of them could afford. Their Goron friend, however, had not been so lucky. Darunia, being a third-year page to a Knight, was on a tighter leash with his master. Since he was two years behind some of the prodigy children, Darunia was struggling to grow stronger faster. His master Darmani understood that, and together they would spar and practice with every weapon imaginable in the crusty fields, all alone to focus. Sometimes Ralis and Colin would ride past them, but not stop, due to Darmani's playful - but not really - grumping.

Generally, Ralis was more available than Darunia. Duke Mikau often went to the balls, invitationals, or jaunts into the countryside for his political image. Although Ralis was more than welcome to come, the kind-hearted Mikau wanted to ease the Zoran boy into the duties of a duke, not brutally shove him into the rush of meticulous politics. Ralis, smart as he was, enjoyed riding horses, since in the Zoran Domains he had never seen them.

Time after time, Colin found that riding gave him some measure of peace. Even if he were alone riding, there were flowing green pastures and rocky trails to discover. He stayed in the Lanayru Province, yet some days there was a calling from the north. He would ride until he came upon the Zora's River, and swim in the cold water.

Colin gripped the bridle tighter. "Epona," he whistled her familiar tune, "Hey girl..." He carefully peeked into the sweet-smelling stall.

The fiery mare, with a cloudy mane and a dirtied coat, snorted. Her eyes were intelligent in her pretty blazed head, and her ears flickered. When she saw it was Colin, the animal nickered, muzzle playing in his blonde hair. He gently stroked the smooth hair on her cheek.

Rumor had it that this beautiful mare had been stolen from the north years ago, in a place where the gods bathed in blood and sunlight. From the intensity of her scarlet hide, the soldiers couldn't ride her for the fear the color would draw attention. Stable boys ignored her. Her tack was moved onto racks for civilian horses, although it was finely made of leather and metal strips. She was left to rot in a small stall.

Before, she had been sweet. Now, full of pride and fury, she allowed no man to ride her. A stable hand had written a request for a butcher just when Colin had wandered in to polish leather for his first time. In the straw-smelling room, Colin's heart had jumped.

Opportunity knocked only once; Colin had begged his fellow page to simply forget the letter and let him train the horse. The boy had been frightened until a order from Ganondorf came to the Master of Horses. Epona was to live.

The High Prince's page let her out into a huge pasture on the west side of the stables; it had taken him all day to corner her and tease her into the grass. Freed, the scarlet mare had given a spirited buck. Colin had never seen something so awesome and powerful.

Upon hearing her mysterious history, Colin found that she loved the whistle from the horse-calling grass back in Ordon that grew in the rough, rickety patches by water. After nearly four days of calling, she would come straight to him when he blew it, not scatter away or balk once she saw it was a human child.

That's where he was now. The creature loved him, and he found himself enamored of the courageous, intelligent horse.

"Colin."

The boy turned hastily, to find Ralis standing outside of the stall, an amused look in his eyes. Colin ruefully stared back at the Zoran before laughing, stroking Epona's nose. "Are you ready to go...already?"

"I simply was stating my presence."

The Hylian snorted, hands expertly finding the blanket for Epona. He threw it over her back, adjusting the position. "Whatever. I thought you were making fun of me." Colin lifted the saddle onto her back. The mare flicked her tail in annoyance once he started to tighten the girth.

Ralis, watching him, sighed. As quiet as a ghost, he disappeared into the tack room. After a few minutes of clanking, he headed back down the rows of stalls to find his own horse.

Deftly working, Colin's hands tightened the breast band. "Epona," he whispered, "I'll let you run today. Maybe Ralis is in a good mood, and he just wants to swim. We can go away, up north."

As if she understood, her ears pricked in excitement. The boy grinned. Gently, he slid the bit in between her white teeth, then the straps over her ears. Double-checking his work, he whistled under his breath, scratching an itch on his nose.

Colin took the reins with one hand while opening the lock with the other. He led the skittish mare out into the hall, grinning at her clopping hooves. "Ralis, I'm going to be out on the west clearing."

A muffled noise came from the stall down the way. The page took it for a yes.

Outside of the stables, the air was clean, although black snow was stuck onto the sides of buildings. Soft light was entering the doorway, causing a glow to emanate on the cobblestone streets. Through the stone archway, Colin could see a throng of people. It was a loud time of day: the part where the night shift exited and the day shift entered. A few more civilians were setting up their wares on colorful blankets.

He led Epona toward the gate. Only once did her ears pin back, and that was because a guard stumbled a bit too close to her heel. Colin hastily continued on, exiting the plaza through the western gate.

The sloping draw bridge rose above the moat. In clear sight, the outer wall made a promise of safety; its massive stones weighed tons and the gates were always heavily manned. Passerbys wandered past him into the city, but Colin continued to admire the scenery. This was what he enjoyed in Hyrule.

Epona's nose thumped his back, urging him to move on. The two crossed and passed through the gate with no worries; the guards knew Colin and the fiery mare on sight.

The landscape had a sheen layer of morning dew across the lawn. Green was the only color. Sighing, Colin mounted. Epona twitched under him, perhaps thinking they were ready to ride. Her tail twitched as her rider soothed her shoulders.

As he tried to keep his mind occupied, he saw a sign hammered into the ground. Curious, he nudged Epona to it. He read the inscription from horseback, dread building in his chest.

_ATTENTION ALL CITIZENS AND ALLIES OF HYRULE:_

_As of the fourth moon in the past month, the Kingdom of Twilight has been deemed a threat and antagonist in an impending war. Any marketing or selling of those goods produced from the country will be seized on the charge of foreign propaganda. Trading will be stopped immediately._

_Thank you,_

_the Assembly of Hyrule_

Colin's disbelieving eyes read it again.

An 'impending war'?

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a cobalt horse came hastily down the slant. Ralis was trying to appear elegant, but he failed miserably. The horse, named Zeffa, was jerking his head and dragging the prince along with him.

Colin grinned half heartedly. "Is he going to ride you?"

The prince directed a glare at him. "Of course not, peasant." His eyebrows rose in laughter. Like a professional, he swung on the stirrups to sit perfectly on Zeffa.

Once Ralis was settled, the two let the horses walk toward the northern field, towards Zora's River. The hills passed them by. A swift wind blew down the pass, and within seconds, the animals had broken into a dash.

Colin reveled in the feeling of his adrenaline spiking as they barrelled over the path. His mind cleared of any thoughts; he was free from all duties while riding such a wild beast. The power from her legs was incredible.

At his right, Ralis gave an uncharacteristically loud whoop. Without thinking, Colin answered back, an insane laugh matching the tone. They refused to slow as the land rolled by. Up ahead, there was a glint from Zora's River.

In a flash, it was all over as Ralis tugged the reins. Epona would have continued her wild race, but Colin soothingly whistled her melody. She halted within moments, albeit a hundred feet too far. The mud, still wet from spring, packed under the mare's feet.

The river was beautiful in the mid-morning light. The ripples were agitated around the steps leading into the water, but the stones were polished and smoothed, round and beautiful from the relentless tide. Colin gazed at it lovingly. This was a favorite place.

"Race you to the water!" he yelled, leaping from Epona's saddle. His legs hit the ground and he was racing towards the river. Ralis, struggling to run, managed to catch up at the last moment. Both boys dove into the water like otters.

Cold bubbles exploded around Colin's face. He shivered pleasantly while his lungs easily kept him under the roaring waves. By the time he required air, he gave a massive kick to send him to the top. Ralis was waiting, lazily swimming. He was graceful in his movements, defying the currents easily.

Back on land, the horses were calm; they snorted before cropping the sparse grass. With their reins trailing, both of the handsome beasts looked like freed gods. Colin sighed at Epona's shimmering coat.

"If I didn't know you better, I would imagine you were thinking about a sweetheart, not a wild mare..." Ralis gurgled, splashing in and out. His black eyes twinkled.

"She's gorgeous. Any animal with strength like hers deserves adoration!"

"She's an animal."

"She's a goddess!"

Together the boys laughed, swimming across to the other bank. Slowly, the clothes began to wear down Colin's arms, and by the time he'd made seven passes, he needed to stop. He easily made it to the alcove. Stripping his shirt, he set it on the bank to dry while he bathed in the sun.

Back in Ordon, it would have been full blown into spring, where crops could be planted in the warm, moist soil and animals exercised on the tiny ranch pastures. That's how it had always been, and in coming to the north, Colin hated not being able to walk without stomping into the vigilant ice on the steps. At this time of day, he probably would have been bored out his mind, braiding the goats' thick hair while he daydreamed.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Hylian saw a signboard pointing toward the north. A frown fit onto his face. Suddenly the words "war", "death", and "Council" swarmed in his mind. Wasn't it enough to simply trade threats? Why did innocents need to die for the greater good?

He sighed, realizing too late it had been out loud. Ralis immediately halted on his twelfth lap, bobbing questioningly in the middle of the current. "Yes?" the boy yelled over the noise.

Colin motioned him over; it only took a handful of seconds before the Prince was waiting. "Did you see that sign?" Colin asked, mind working. His hand pointed out the weathered board with the new parchment.

Ralis, sitting in the pool of water, stiffened. His eyes turned down. "Of course."

"When did they put it up?"

The incredulous Zoran boy sharply glanced towards the Hylian. Immediately, Colin felt embarrassed. He didn't dwell on it; Ralis's smooth voice came from the riverside.

"A week ago. There was a general session where prominent civilians and merchants were allowed into the council room. Even the King Ganon was present. Many...many people swayed under the Dark Knight's snake tongue..." Ralis was clenching his fists, "-and the war was being discussed as any other policy, not as an emergency. It was infuriating to see so many so ready for war!"

Colin felt a very real shiver. "Then you believe it's coming?"

Under his black eyes, a spark shot. "Certainly. There is only so much more a country can take before the monarch becomes greedy." He ducked his head, saying, "It is treason to speak thus. I trust you will not-"

"Hey, don't worry about it!" Colin hastily nodded, "It's those horses you should be concerned with. They gossip." A small smile didn't help the situation, but his joke did. Ralis relaxed.

The sun was beginning to burn Colin's ears. Still, he remained where he was, not ready to let his clothes stick to his back all day long. True to his culture, Ralis remained in the icy water, eyes lost in thought. Finally, the Zoran boy pursed his lips, and began:

"There was only one man to ride away for the good of Hyrule and Twilight both. He was a peasant from the south named Link. At only the age of seventeen, he became a legend. Whenever a border dispute came up, he and his scarlet horse were there, independent of the government. Instead of using violent force, he spoke to both, claiming only to be a passerby with a hand of wisdom.

"My great-grandfather believed in him. He said that such a Hylian had never been seen. Many Zorans pronounced him a chosen of the Goddess. Our waters remained clean and the land-walkers spoke to us as equals.

"That was before he vanished into the wilds over the northern border. It was during the fall one day, and the officials in the government thought it was only for a short relief from his duties. He never returned.

"Slowly but steadily, the peace became tense. The farmers began to notice strange beasts in the woods, while the waters around the lake grew filthy from oils and trash. We waited for years, but the hero never returned. It was an oppressive darkness all over the land.

Ralis suddenly halted in his explanation, seeing Colin's intense face. A small gust of wind made both of the boys shiver. Epona and Zeffa snorted, shocking Ralis back into motion. Slowly, he took a breath, continuing on.

"Fifty years ago, there were rumors. Travelers claimed to have seen shadows protecting them. Hylians and Twilis claimed that it was Link, come back from the ages to continue his peace. Nobody could prove this assumtion; horses would not enter the northern woods and many got lost in them, only to find their feet at the entrance again. Peace returned with this tiny hope.

"They say the wars in the past have been prevented by 'Guardians of the Pass'. I believe it's all a myth. My family waited for generations before we received any relief from the goblins. By then, our culture had nearly been crushed.

"The reigning Queen had long since been usurped by King Ganon. Still, the middle class began turning to him when the crops dried up, when the waters in the lake receded, when there was no more trade. He easily boosted the economy, although the poor lost any wealth they had. Slowly, the King took control of the government.

"These so-called 'Guardians' refused come out from hiding. Slowly, the people lost all memory of them, and how grand Hyrule and its surrounding lands were thousands of years ago. Clearly, our neighboring country Twilight was expanding and becoming a powerhouse under the leadership of a family of nobles. Their daughter Midna rules now.

"It's just like a Great-Fairy tale, except we are the evil brewing in the east," Ralis said, stretching out on the grass while Colin packed the bags. The boys had had a small lunch of bread and cheese with fruit.

The noise from the river was the only sound in the open area. Quiet, the Hylian and Zora mulled in their thoughts.

_It seems so strange to see so much emotion from Ralis,_ Colin wondered, _he must be terribly upset. And I can see why. His whole life, his relatives had held on to old beliefs that the rest of us have forgotten. Nobody knows the story of Link. _

What would that be like? To fade into legend as somebody who truly made a difference? To be revered as a peaceful warrior...?

"COME ON, COLIN!"

He jumped, seeing a white-skinned kid wave the dark thoughts away. Ralis roared, diving into the river again.

Grinning, Colin cherry-bombed his friend.

**_XXX_**

By the time Colin returned to the foot of the palace steps, the guarded doors were shut. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. He should have known they would close up earlier than usual; more dignitaries were staying in the palace wings. The black-hooded guards wouldn't let him in, even if Ganondorf gave him a pass.

He wandered back into town. The oil lamps were flickering as they were lit by some of the citizens. A few groups still lingered in the main plaza, but other than that, the streets were deserted. The fountain was like a symbol of the heavens squat in the courtyard. Colin stared up at the Triforce.

Was what Ralis said true? Had the Hero really lived up in the pass ages ago? If so, then where had his descendants gone? The Hero of Time was said to have been a friend to all races and tribes; surely he couldn't have been defeated by his weak enemies.

Speaking of friends...

Colin remembered his own Goron friend. It had been a while since they had spoken; meetings and training had occupied his time. Darunia had been particularly excited when the Hylian boy had promised to visit the Goron Embassy on the plaza. This was the perfect opportunity.

It took a few minutes to cross the cobblestones, but once Colin was near the cafe, he quickened his pace. The lamps, clearly posted on the wall next to an official sign, revealed the gated door. He didn't know if there was still time to call upon a favor. Darunia would probably laugh at this new circumstance. Before he knew it, the page let the knocker fall twice.

It was a huge Goron who immediately pulled open the massive door; he had a disheveled head of hair and bags around the bottom of his eyes. Shocked, Colin asked quickly, "I am sorry to bother you at this hour, but is Darunia here by chance?" He crossed his fingers hopefully.

"Of course," the huge creature said in his booming voice, "Come in."

Colin had never been in any kind of Embassy; all of Ganondorf's guests were escorted to the palace. It was like any other home in the city with stone bricks for walls, a hatch to let in light and air, and several boxes of goods at the entrance. A clean scent pervaded the air, smelling like rock.

Together, the two stepped through the arch. A medium sized, high-ceilinged room opened up, with a winding staircase along the right wall. The Goron in front of Colin pounded on a metal door underneath the railing. Laughter and the noise of eating rose through the cracks.

"Darunia!"

In a few seconds, the door was opened by the stout Goron boy. Not much had changed in his looks. His hair, somewhat shaggier, looked white in the moonlight. Colin had a grin on his face before Darunia turned to greet his visitor. Once their eyes met, the boys grabbed each others' arms. Immediately, the boys sank into easy talk.

"Colin, Colin! I thought you'd never come."

"Well, you see...I need a favor," Colin pretended to wince, and then pleaded, "I've been locked out of the castle. It was my free day, and I spent the morning riding the horses. I was so lost in time looking at the butterflies that time simply escaped." His grin couldn't be hidden in the shadows.

Darunia's eyes were wicked and black. His arms flexed. "I see. So you are using me and my kind for our huge beds and thick comforters?" When Colin laughed, Darunia feigned a sigh. Ironically, his arms opened wide, clearly welcoming the Hylian. "If you like."

The smaller boy bowed his head. "You won't have to put up with me for long. I've got to head out early."

Knowing that they were done joking, Darunia nodded. "We have a bench. Problem is that of us are so big, we would break it if we sat on it. It's really only for guests. You're more than welcome." He scratched his head before continuing, "It's upstairs though."

Colin shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Just show me where it is."

Together, they climbed the stairs to the balcony. When they passed by the windows, a faint bit of light would travel in, like small beacons guiding them onward. "This is where I come to think," Darunia said, spreading his arms wide to the archway. Colin hesitantly followed.

Outside, there was nothing but blue and silver. It was a beautiful view; the castle could be seen like a behemoth in the sky while the center plaza shone like the moon. No wonder foreigners felt towers and tiers were nearly invisible in the dark, and the entire structure appeared to grow in size. It was a formidable, yet peaceful. Colin sighed.

Somewhere along the line, this grand place had become his home.

"It's a great night, goro," Darunia voice rumbled. Colin realized he had been dozing.

"Yes. I love this place..." he hesitated, before asking, "Do you ever think of your old home?" When Darunia gave him a sharp look, he wryly explained, "I feel like I've been here forever, but in reality, it's been almost a year."

The Goron sighed. His fists clenched tighter. In the midnight, he shifted uncomfortably.

"I have before. Not for a few years; I've been here three years. My clan has probably grown quite a bit since I've been gone." His face lifted. "I cannot remember my mother-goro's face."

Colin grew quiet. "I am sorry, brother. I feel the same way. You know, my mother was going to have a baby only a few months after I left?" The Goron blinked. "Yeah. I'm a big brother and I don't even know if it's a boy or a girl! What kind of person does that make me? Do I just not care?"

A broad, firm hand gripped Colin's shoulder, jerking him back to reality. He glanced up to look at Darunia. His huge brown eyes were disbelieving. "No, goro! You are a man." Uncomfortably, he continued, "You left for a better life, to provide for home. That's a noble goal."

"But I didn't! I left to become a Knight, to have glory!"

Darunia shook his head. "I do not believe it. Perhaps you started thinking that in your mind, but your heart knows much better. You are a good man. You want to help now, right?" When Colin nodded, he pounded his chest. "Good brother!"

"You really think so?"

The Goron laughed heartily. "I wouldn't have liked you if I didn't know. Stay here, while I fetch a blanket." He pulled the door open while Colin sank to the bench. Rubbing his head, the smaller boy groaned. There were far too many things in his small life to deal with right about now. Emotional insecurities shouldn't be one of them.

A soft bundle of material hit him in the head. He glanced towards Darunia, who just nodded. "Sleep, goro. I'll get you when the gates open." Thundering footsteps came from the stairwell as Darunia headed into the Goron Assembly.

When the quiet struck, Colin sighed in relief. After his one day of relaxation, it felt like years had passed. Pulling the blanket over his shoulders, he gazed up at the stars. Before he knew it, his eyes had grown heavy. Within moments, they closed in sleep.

"Thank you, goro," he whispered into the darkness.

_**0**_

_**0**_


	10. Why?

A/N: _**This is an amazing section, and crucial for you to understand. It's about humanity, people, and tolerance. We should start remembering that when we get into world wars, economic depressions, and everyday squabbles between neighbors. Humans . That's what we all are. **_

_**Reviewers: la generala, Anonymous (I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR SUBMITTING A REVIEW!!!), Vopi, TheFinalCountdown, Poorfox, Principessa Dell'Opera, DynturaDJ, flame99, and Seldavia . SERIOUSLY, TWO NEW REVIEWERS? IT MAKES MY DAY!**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

_**XXX**_

_Why?_

_**XXX**_

Colin was heading back towards his suite when he heard another page's footsteps on the wooden slats racing past him. Curious, Colin slowed, allowing the thin, gawky boy to race past into the heavily populated dormitories.

_What was that about?_

He strained his ears. Shouts were coming from the echoing stone corridors; clearly something of had happened. Perhaps it was from the Council Meeting? Slinking in through the door jam, he managed to blend into the burly crowd.

All of the boys were hotly debating whatever had just happened. Colin got bits of sentences, all containing "Northern passes...", "Princess Midna", "enraged", and "Twilight". He was confused, and just as he was ready to listen in to Kaeru, a cold hand caught his elbow. Jerking, the Ordon boy met Ralis's dark eyes. Just behind him, Darunia was heading up the twisting stairs.

Colin followed instantly, letting Ralis lead the way. What was going on? He would catch phrases from the numerous boys they passed that didn't make any sense. Those few boys the trio passed on the cobblestone stairs were talking about legions, geography, and statistics…

By the time the three had reached the cold upper levels of the palace walls, the noise was gone. Through the open window, the sky was a dark gray, showing the storms beginning to roll in. Colin let the two stand side by side, rearranging their thoughts. Impatiently, he shifted.

Despite the short walk, Darunia sat down straight onto the floor, and he said, "We saw you come in, Colin-goro. No idea where you've been, but…you need to know as a brother."

Ralis straightened, and holding his hand on the parapet, he stated coolly, "Early this afternoon, barely three o' clock, the King called a war meeting." The boy's eyes hardened, and he continued, "Mikau attended. When he came out about at the relief break, I asked him what had happened. 'Perhaps we were under attack? Were the savages in the west rising?' No, he answered, _we_ were the ones declaring war."

A cold fist of anger clenched at Colin's heart, and he asked, "This was the first meeting?"

"No," Darunia took up, "It was the first time the military was invited. All of the commanders have been debating this 'course of action' for several weeks!" His fist slammed into the stone, causing it to shake. "We don't have anything to gain by going for war in Twilight! We have enough land, enough crops-"

"Of course," Ralis agreed, easing over the situation with a steady hand. Taking a breath, he ran a hand through his dark hair, and then said, "Apparently, Cero has been blaming Twilight for numerous attacks in the south and east borders. When he finally had support from other nobles, most likely Lady Veran and her entourage, he petitioned the King. They took a vote without the emissary Lord Zant present. That in itself breaches our peace agreement. In the end, the ending balance was the majority for the war with a mere six against it."

The Goron huffed. "From what Darmani told me of this meeting, only Ganondorf didn't vote. Everybody else was debating hotly, and he just…sat there."

Colin let out a breath he'd been holding. All of this time? For weeks there had been meetings? Was that why Ganondorf had been preoccupied, and unresponsive? He hadn't bothered to tell his own page?

Ralis and Darunia were quiet when Colin suddenly jerked around, throwing open the crosshatched door with a massive boom. They started, but Colin couldn't see his friends' expressions; he was already on the fourth stairwell down.

"Wait!"

He heard them call after him, but he was down a set of stairs, and he was running through the darkness like a demon was on his back. He certainly had a bone to pick with his master.

_**XXX**_

By the time he'd made it to Ganondorf's study, it was late enough for the stars to be breaking from the setting sun. The pages' dormitory, still packed, had slowed his anger while he shifted through his fellows. He was only half convinced he still needed to go, yet something was gnawing at him. Alone in the corridors with only his thoughts, he realized how stupid he was to openly question his master's motives.

Now, with the magnificent door in front of him, his hands were trembling, and sweat was sliding down the small of his back. He was shaking like mad. The twin guards bedecked in thick armor, opened it effortlessly, letting him into the familiar, dark room with knowing looks.

It took a moment for Colin to see that Ganondorf was leaned over at his huge, paper-strewn desk, like he had been for what seemed every visit. The High Prince's eyes rose, meeting Colin's with a blank emotionless barrier. Under his olive-skinned brows, his eyes were blacker than ebony stones. He seemed like a dormant volcano, quiet for the moment, but ready to erupt. Taking a breath, Colin strode towards him. When he was within respectable distance, he stiffened, not bowing.

Ganondorf did not seem surprised. "Colin," he greeted dangerously.

Colin knew it wasn't the time to be subtle. Lowering his head, he began, "Sir, I have always thought the highest of you, and have tried to better myself to be more like you." He hesitated, seeing how Ganondorf blinked at the revelation, and then Colin stiffened.

"Although I have put trust into you, apparently, you don't trust me enough to tell me that for weeks, why you've been distracted is that there's plans for war!" His hands, shaking, were finally let out of his sides, and he jerked them towards the northeast, snapping, "All of this time, and you couldn't even mention it, or tell me like a man? I have been guarding your reputation while I did not even know it! Could you have at least-"

"Colin!"

His name was sharp on his master's tongue, and when Colin glared at the huge man, he realized that he had risen from his desk, taller than a horse, and twice as strong. His eyes seemed like slits far up in his skull, and Colin knew how far he had gone. To deliberately insult a master was the worst one could do, and punishment such as disbandment, or torture was acceptable. For a High Prince, that kind of speak could have a rope around his neck in ten seconds. Suddenly, Colin saw death before his eyes.

Ganondorf only stayed upright for another moment before sinking into the massive chair. A frown slid across his face as the last light passed behind the jagged northern mountains.

Skittishly, the lean boy eyed the thick door. If he could only make it that far-

"Colin," Ganondorf said in the foreboding darkness, frown deepening subtly. The light defined his blocky jaw and nose, painting him harshly. Shrouded in the gray darkness, he seemed almost too old for being a healthy young prince. With slumped shoulders, his enormous hands held his red-gold haired temples tight, as if debating.

_He's tired_, Colin realized with a jolt of guilt. It was too late to go back onto his words; they were accusing, and harsh. Bracing himself for terrible punishment, the boy defiantly clenched his fists.

Not completely to his surprise, the Prince did not explode with fury, did not stand, throwing his desk to crush Colin beneath the gilded wood. Instead, his weary eyes gazed through the small boy standing against him. His words were cryptic when he addressed Colin coldly.

"Would you like to see what war brings? The aftermath? The cost?"

Colin pulled his arguments short. Unable to reply, he stood stiffly at attention. His breath came faster, almost to the point of hyperventilation. Still, he refused to show any sort of reluctance, or fear of the furious man. He gave a curt nod.

The High Prince rose to become a shadow, eyes cloaked in the darkness. The full moon's light streamed in the clear windows. He was enormous, Colin noted not for the first time, bigger than any normal man. Wordlessly, Ganondorf crossed the simple room to a shrouded back corner in little more than four strides, smoothly opening the hidden door. It seemed like an escape route, a door to an unknown world...

Knowing the man was waiting, Colin couldn't help but stiffly join him.

Ganondorf led the diminutive boy through the deceiving palace by only silver moonlight streaming in from barred windows. Magnificent hallways intertwined, and diverged, spliced together in odd sections. This seemed to be the older area of the Hyrule Castle, and there wasn't as much gild and ornaments in these halls; those that remained seemed priceless antiques of a by-gone world.

Colin noticed the ancient paintings were wrought with silver trim, almost glowing in exuberance. It seemed insane that he was actually following the High Prince into the night, away from all officials and politics. As they walked, the boy could hear the material under foot. The wood beneath their feet wasn't like the well-used bridge back in Ordon Village; it was tightened and stiff. Dead.

Despite how huge his master was, he still managed to be silent. Colin trekked along almost as quietly, footsteps only slightly echoing. His boots were heavy, thick and dangerously loud. Cursing his inability to remain quiet the boy frowned. He needed to practice his efficiency and stealth more, especially if he were to go on a mission in the not so distant future. He anxiously played with the golden rattail at the nape of his neck.

Before he knew what they were doing, the High Prince pushed the page out into a heavily guarded courtyard. Walls as large as barricades surrounded this small area, and the silhouettes of men on watch peeked out like fingers against the battlements. It seemed controlled and strict. There was no sprouting grass; only rubble and scraps of wood littered the ground heading towards the moat, bridge, and the gate into the tower.

A massive palm of olive-green and brown engulfed Colin's lean shoulder, leading him over the trenches and deep, fathomless moat, towards the ebony streak spearing the sky that could only been known as the Tower. Prison. They were one and the same. It didn't shock him as he thought it might; didn't all war end in prison?

But still, what was Ganondorf trying to prove? That prisoners of Twilight deserved to be shut away and confined for years? What about those that were executed? It hardly seemed fair. Why wouldn't he speak up in Council meetings?

Upon reaching the gate on the other side of the moat complete with metal crosshatchings, Ganondorf smartly exchanged few words with four silent sentries. There was only a soft hum as they recognized and hailed the Prince. As on condition of the High Prince's visit, they were accepted without any pause. Colin gazed at their dark faces, nodding once he was saluted to.

Inside, there was a square stone hallway with a low ceiling, branching off into four separate corridors. With a sentry following at their backs, they were directed soundlessly through the echoing corridors. Even more security lurked in two more split hallways, and sharpshooters could be seen in the dark rafters, hands moving in a silent conversation. Shining arrow-tips made of steel could be seen wickedly in the black gloom. The stairs leading down into the actual prison were low and wide to the left; a long ramp slid like a snake the rest of the way down into the pitch-black dungeons. Two armed men followed them.

The further from the main descending corridor they got, the worse the stench came through his nostrils. The stone seemed to suck up most of the smell, letting it spread like a phantom all through the halls. Ganondorf kept nudging Colin forward, past guards rigidly sitting on overturned water pails and rickety old stools, and all the while he grew more and more speechless. The boy began to notice the low cries from the forsaken, the diseased, and the dying. He did not shudder, even as he saw a blood smear dragged into another corridor. Hardening his mind, he refused to show emotion. He was a soldier.

How long would he have to listen to these sick people cry? The light was gone indefinitely; only the bobbing weave of a torch flickering gave him any identification of where they walked in the caverns. His fears, his nightmares were teasing his mind, prodding at his inhumanity. Even though the tutors had spoken of this flippantly, of the glories of the prisoners of war, Colin was not prepared for actually seeing the prison in daylight, let alone this. What had he gotten himself into?

Finally, when he wondered how far they would go into the labrynth, Ganondorf turned them down a set of wide stone stairs at the end of their current corridor, leading into a shadowed walkway framed by blood-stained walls. The stone surrounding it was nearly five feet thick, riddled with shackles, dead bolts, and keyholes. The Prince frowned at the numerous padlocks and bolts, but did not seem shocked or unnerved. Colin shivered.

The guards who had been following them bowed, smoothly opening the door without any hassle. The keys winked cruelly, ridges turned into devilish gold eyes. The only sound rumbling was the groaning of the metal on stone. To Colin's shock, there was another heavy metal door, and through the bars at eyelevel, he saw another. His master took this with a single stride, eyes hardened in the twilight. One guard stayed, shutting then locking the door behind them, and watching them with hard, abused eyes.

Gazing back, Colin suddenly understood.

Maximum security.

These were the hard criminals who weren't even allowed out on any sort of excuse, especially not that of exercise. Food wasn't slid through flaps at the bottom; it was manually brought in, to make sure the prisoners weren't dead or escaped.

They were wasting away.

But never forgotten.

Together, prince and page needed no urging. The guard had opened this door as well, seamlessly as the first had. He passed a small key to Ganondorf, while unsheathing a sword from the small of his armored back. The clicks were ominous as they were alone, only a new door between them the total hell. Colin could feel himself slowing down, willing but not wanting to go through that portal.

Ganondorf had already unlocked the door as a soldier would, grabbing a lantern from a hook imbedded in the gray stone at eyelevel. Desperately, Colin scurried after his master, refusing to be left alone. The metal swung shut behind them with a sickening thud.

Once the access was shut and locked again, the lantern was the only light, a beacon struggling against the putrid air. They stood in the vault of damned souls; Colin remembered such stories from both his mother and Beth. He felt the hairs on his neck stand and shiver; unlike up the stairs, there was not a single sound. It was like oblivion. Only death all around…

Then a flicker of light came from behind Ganondorf, and he was holding the lantern high, weak rays hitting dull metal bars and cold, dusty floors. The light washed eerily over several quiet figures, all either erect or lounging gracefully. Behind the bars, they seemed so meek and timid, but once Colin looked closer, he saw the way their heads were raised proudly, muscles quivering in excitement.

The boy realized with a start that the sparkling, shocking eyes were focused dangerously on him. They weren't huddled and broken, like all of the others moaning in their cells, starving to death. These people were challenging him like they owned this place and he wasn't allowed.

Like they knew they could escape.

He shivered in the freezing air, unsurely glancing at his master. Tall and inhumanely strong, Ganondorf wasn't even looking at the boy when he began to speak. "Look, Colin," he said softly, "This is war." With a wave, he swung the lantern in a circle, and passed over the nearest cell. He nudged Colin even closer, so he could see directly into the being's fiery orbs.

Taking a breath, Colin gazed in at the scarlet eyes. They were wicked and calculating, but somewhere underneath, Colin fancied he saw a spark of interest and sympathy, directed towards the huge shadow behind him.

"This is Sheik," Ganondorf stated, "The Shadow Weaver. He was hardest to capture alive; he suffered four fire arrows in his side, two chest wounds, and a deep face cut before his body gave out after weeks of exhaustion. He was still thrashing when we knocked him unconscious."

Confused, Colin studied the man's emancipated body. Little more than long strips of disgusting gray fabric covered his face, hands, and his thin ribs. What had once been vivid azure clothes were now only a horrible shade of gray. He saw hair peeking out from behind the strips hiding his face, almost as fair as the sun, cropped ungainly at the brow. His eyes were blood red.

Moving quickly, Ganondorf steered him on with a burly hand, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. Colin tried to remain stone-faced, a soldier ready for war. But the Prince must have seen Colin's nervous expression, or felt how his limbs were shaking uncontrollably. "You will understand in time, Colin. This is war."

To the right, there was a woman, crouched on the balls of her feet. Like the man before her, the clothes adorning her thin body were faded into a gray, although they had once promised vivid scarlet pants and a blue leather jerkin. She wore ragged gloves, knuckles bruised from their position curled on the floor. Shifting, she brushed a lock of frayed black braids behind her shoulders. Her black eyes glowered at Colin.

"Ashei. She scouted our party ahead, from the icy slopes. All she was wearing was an animal skin, and when we headed on to their hidden village, she was waiting with the others. For a woman, she fought fiercely indeed. She tried to take her own life when she saw the others were either unconscious or heavily wounded."

"This man is Auru," Ganondorf introduced, not halting in his explanations, "He took most of the heavy fighting upon his shoulders, trying to protect these younger men and women. Up until this point, he had been creating bombs from chemicals and plants he found in the wild. He is the eldest, serving the Resistance for what I believe is one of the Ancient Princesses of Hyrule."

The man he was speaking about was sitting with his back pressed flat against the stone in what looked like an uncomfortable position, snow gray beard shaggy and unkempt. His homely, rural clothes, once again, were shredded, as if he'd been sliced one too many times across his legs. But the way he held himself detracted any sort of weariness from him; his eyes were watching, as if he were thinking deeply.

As they reached the final two cells at the end of the enclosure, Ganondorf whispered, "This is their Princess. Princess Zelda." With a prod, the huge man caused Colin to step forward, almost straight into the darkest shadow. Colin's heart quickened, not understanding how a princess might have come to be in a cell with obvious criminals as these. In his mind, all he could see was a smiling, beautiful woman in a sapphire dress. The light swept over a prostrate figure before he had a chance to glance away.

She looked terrible, worse than any of them. She was curled around her stomach, as if she were in pain. Her hair was limp, a dirty gray; her clothes were rags although there was a thin, wool blanket pulled over her shoulders. She had no wounds on her body, but she was shivering, looking like she ached. Uncertainly, Colin's hand touched the silvery prison bar.

Suddenly, her eyes flashed open, stars of hatred set deep in her gaunt face. The purest blue sliced through him as she curled further around her stomach, shielding herself, but defying the dumbfounded gaze he gave her. Unsure of what to say, Colin's face fell, and he released his hand.

With one last glance at her icy eyes, they turned to face the last prisoner. At first, there wasn't anybody to be seen in the cell; neither corner held an idea of where the prisoner could be hiding. Puzzled and unnerved, Colin glanced to Ganondorf for help, eyebrows furrowed. He barely nodded, eyes sharpening dangerously behind Colin, and the boy's gaze returned obediently, hoping for a sign.

There, hands pressed loosely against the iron bars, was a man, gazing out at them with the coldest eyes imaginable. His pale skin rippled in the dim lighting, and white scars, as well as new bloodied wounds, were stretched across his chest, and neck. On his ankle, there appeared to be a metal circlet and a slender chain extending to the back wall, keeping him out of complete reach of the bars. Blonde hair, nearly the color of Sheik's, was ratted with dirt until it appeared a muddy brown.

The boy nearly took a step back in panic; how had he suddenly appeared? Colin blinked at the cruel blue eyes, suddenly seeing this man as something more than just human. Unknown to himself, he took another step back, shrinking back into the light of the lantern.

Suddenly, the prisoner whispered something, not fearfully or wearily, but full of amusement. It was unintelligible, but musical, almost beautiful. From all around, laughing, haunting voices joined his, a harmony of hate. All of those people in the cells were up, pressed into the biting bars, watching Colin and Ganondorf with grins on their faces, but eyes dark as the ocean. The boy knew it was directed at him.

Then, as the blue eyes lowered to his, pleased, the connection hit him.

Without even thinking, the boy stared up, shivering at the revelation. His knees shook, hands clenched, and he pursed his lips together, afraid. "Cero?" he whispered, causing fury to swarm across the man's face. Colin could see the way his hands relaxed, and his muscles clenched, preparing for a strike. The boy couldn't move: he was too dumbfounded to even twitch.

Hastily, Ganondorf pulled Colin back near his side, while the man's arm flexed, strangely threatening in the gloom. Shaking his head as the man faded away again, the High Prince said quietly, "No. His brother, Link."

Motioning to everybody else returning to their respective positions in the cramped cells, he said with a wave of his hand, "This is his clan, his family. He is the leading man. He would die for any of them, and tried to do so when we approached. Even though he tried to get them to vanish quietly, and have us take him hostage, he had summoned enough loyalty from these people to cause them to fight alongside him."

Colin's hand clenched in frustration. Ganondorf started to usher him out, unlocking, then locking the door once they were out. "But Cero! Doesn't he know?"

Ganondorf's face grew suddenly bitter, and just before he knocked on the exit door, his eyes burned. Shaking, he seemed to compose himself. Colin could see his entire body hardening. It frightened him more than even those lost souls in their dank cells.

"Of course," he said, "He is the one that turned them in."

_**XXX**_

As soon as the two shadows left, Sheik relaxed again into his stretched position on the damp floor, sinking his head into his burned hands. They were scarred; giant welts raced across his slender digits. He frowned, stretching his back until it cracked.

"Link," he said quietly, raising his head, "Why would the Lord introduce us to a snivelling page? It's not as if we are being an exemplary part of his reign." Eyes burning, he shivered again, beginning his set of a hundred push-ups for his left arm.

From his left, he heard what had to be Ashei's fist slam into the bars, shuddering the entire structure. "Why indeed?" she snarled, black hair shielding her furious eyes. "The only thing we accomplished was stalling the invasion into Twilight." Sheik hesitated before continuing his exercises, drawing a snort from Auru.

Link was not paying any attention. In fact, he was stretched back into his usual lengthy stretch, fingertips barely managing to reach out through the bars to Zelda's shaking hand. She had moved again, the slight bump in her stomach much more unnoticeable when she crawled. Their eyes were shining in the dark, even as Link's ankle cuff caused small trails blood to paint his skin red. Smiling gingerly, she let her fingers barely brush his. Still, it was enough for Link to sigh, and return to the present.

"The boy was his page. Don't they take over from their masters?," Link whispered, "Perhaps he was showing him what he gained on his last crusade."

"It was three months ago…" Zelda snapped, pulling back, "Three months. Surely he's gone on more, found more of our people?" Rolling into a low crouch, she stood slowly, walking slowly around her cell to stretch.

In the dim light, Sheik shook his head again at the two. Lifting himself into a handstand and pushing himself straight up, he began to murmur conspiratorially, "Not if he's got a servant now, the arrogant-"

"Yes," Link cut him off impatiently, "It's something these conquerors do. I'm surprised we haven't been sent out into the fighting pits yet." None of them missed his worried glance towards Zelda, who was feeling the iron bars again.

Sheik flashed a knowing grin.

"If they let us out, we'd slit their throats."

There was only quiet laughter from everyone before they resettled back into their uneasy sleep and the terrifying nightmares that came with it.

_**XXX**_

Quietly, they returned in the dead of the night to Ganondorf's study, sinking into the chairs. After calling for a servant in a severe tone, a crackling fire was merrily blazing in the rarely used fireplace along the back shelving.

Colin still hadn't spoken. It seemed too surreal; this glory hadn't existed in his mind when he had been staring at prisoners of war. Was he just a fake? Those people were suffering for sins they probably didn't commit. And Cero? Who was he, to turn in his own brother? If that was the case, those under him had to be bloodthirsty and greedy as he.

_What would happen to Talo?_

On his left, dressed in clothes of a traveling man, Ganondorf sat, strangely awkward in the enormous room. Usually, he could fill it with the presence of ten men, sternly glowering at any who disturbed him. Faced with the prospect of explaining war to a boy, he seemed reluctant.

Colin didn't blame him.

"They've been there for three months," Ganondorf suddenly spoke, deep voice echoing, "but they still retain their sanity. They understand us, but they speak Ancient Hylian for the sake of it. That's what language they spoke in the cell." Ganondorf glanced to Colin, who was staring off into the distance. The windows were crystal clear, beckoning Ganondorf with the prospect of traveling far away. Refusing to sigh or shake himself, the High Prince uncertainly spoke again.

"Their ancestors were those who actually created the balance of Twilight and Hyrule. They were the peacekeepers, the grounds men." Fingers drummed angrily, showing Ganondorf's disdain for the next few sentences.

"Since we didn't know how many we were up against, we took as many soldiers as we thought necessary. We attacked the settlements around the Straight of Ralph, but Ashei saw us first from the top of Labrianna's Pass. We barely managed to fend off the bombs from Auru, and still control the brittle ground through pass. We advanced into their territory when they ran out of devices.

"Fighting was imminent, and after two long weeks, we managed to capture Ashei and another woman together. When they saw their leaders being charged, the others fought harder. Still, it did nothing. We only managed to capture twenty six of them; the others have fled to other safe-houses. Some have been given to several prisons around the area, but these are their captains. Nobody will act until Link is free, not even the others. Either all of them escape, or none."

He sighed, leaning back, rubbing his temples. It seemed to becoming a habit, Colin thought dreadfully. He wasn't sure exactly what he was feeling about his mentor, but it was somewhere between fascination and disgust.

"With them in custody, my father will take them for sport and game, and since clearing the Labrianna Pass, he can attack Twilight, and the Queen Midna next spring, once the snows melt. He doesn't acknowledge their actual worth. They are priceless in his eyes."

Without a single word, the boy rose, shifting in his clothes. Stepping quickly, furiously, he crossed the room, mind still humming. The brass knob was twisted, and the hinges slid silently as the High Prince's page closed it gently.

_Priceless…_Colin thought angrily, walking away from his mentor and his previous state of mind. _What sort of sick man would destroy a village, and throw his enemies into prison for months?_

_They are human beings._

_Nobody deserves that…_

_Nobody._

_**0**_

_**0**_


	11. Begin

**_A/N: This is an old chapter. As always, some has been rewritten, but not all. Search for the few new details. There are 3,333 words in this section; it's not as big, but i believe it's very informational to Colin and Ganondorf's development._**

**_Reviewers: TheFinalCountdown, Principessa Dell'Opera, Anonymous, Vopi, CatVista (WELCOME ON BOARD!), and Seldavia._**

**_

* * *

  
_**

**_XXX_**

_Begin_

**_XXX_**

_Today_, the page decided, _is not my day._

"Page Colin," the man in the rugged doorway repeated, studying the clean, well-kept dorm, "The Lord Ganondorf requires your presence before the eleventh hour." Quietly, he bowed, watching the bundle of dirty fabrics stiffen.

The 'prodigal' boy, who had turned to face him when he entered, was frowning in discontentment. He had been gazing out the cramped window into the back alley, where a cat was pawing at a piece of metal. Hesitating at the boy's shocked face, the head servant sternly narrowed his gaze, fingers twitching subtly on the door. "It would be best to see to his needs immediately."

"Of course," the boy said hollowly, "Of course I will go to him."

The man-servant bowed, and shut the door with a tiny click. Colin stared at the door. The grains of wood were shifting in lines before his tired eyes; he hadn't gotten one wink of sleep. Every time he even dared to shut his eyes, bloody images and haunting smells bombarded his memory. The dungeons had frightened him. Being locked away in the dark was his worst nightmare.

He had been awaken when Ralis had risen in the darkness, around six o' clock. He had bumped a hip into the dresser and cursed, and Colin had pretended to be asleep. He didn't want to talk. Even Darunia had left before he did, buckling up his armor and apprentice sword.

He had waited while the light slowly baked the room with heat. For a while, he had continued to lie on his coverlet, but when he heard the animals rooting around in the trash, he sat up. The cats and dogs had fought over the most peculiar things: a shiny string, two chicken bones, and a wad of paper. Colin had enjoyed watching them.

Yet, his master had shown him something that was being ignored. Never had Colin given any thought to the Tower, or the criminals locked inside. In one night, his whole viewpoint of Hyrule, and his master, had changed. Did this mean the man trusted him now? Or did it mean that he hated him enough to scare him into silence? Ganondorf was such a hard man to read, especially when he took no position on anything Colin wished to understand.

Like why soldiers had been deployed into the desert and the mountains. Were those to 'gather crops' as well? The King didn't seem like the kind who cared about his people, and even then, wouldn't he be looking for something to gain his standings for the war? He had already forced Zorans and Gorons to bow before him, so what were the ghosts of the past and the ancient magic in the woods?

Ganondorf had eased by most of these questions with vague answers, like: "The men needed training." or "Cero needed a reprieve." It was ridiculous. How was Colin supposed to know when he was lying or not?

Ralis continued to explain that in the council meetings, Ganondorf remained high in the High Prince's box, and refused to participate or encourage meetings. It was an irresponsible and cowardly thing to do when war was on the horizon. More shockingly, the Dark Knight had been bringing up matters about sharecropping, trading, and the citizens' rights within Twilight. He made it sound like they were being repressed, and that war would be an ultimate victory for the people. Many delegates were beginning to agree.

Whatever the case, the boy needed to get to the High Prince's study. Five minutes had passed, and by now, his presence was expected. Groaning, Colin pulled on a shirt and cotton pants. Hurriedly, he tugged on his red tunic, and shoved open the door.

It had been several days since Colin had last seen Ganondorf. The boy hadn't left his master in ideal circumstances as was, especially with the harsh words exchanged. If the guards had had enough gall to listen in, both master and page would be in the very same prison as those savages he had been showed for treason. Days later, Colin only now realized how stupid, and lucky, he had been.

Even now, as he calmly walked up the grand balconies with their ruby carpets and black railings to the High Prince's quiet study, he cursed himself for showing his emotions. Was this the end of his life as a page? Could Ganondorf simply write him off as a failure or threat, and continue on with his non-existent plans? Colin had never heard of a page returning to the Page Grounds.

Faster than expected, the High Prince's auditorium opened before him, magnificent in the rich trimmings of tapestries and gold ornaments. The door rose in front of him with the two shrouded guards quietly watching his advance. Colin strode to them, crossing the hall with the air of a king. They bowed slowly to him - more an incline of their cloaked faces than a bow - as the magnificent door swung open on oiled hinges.

Colin entered, taking a deep breath anxiously. He had planned what he was going to say, but as he glimpsed the huge man, all the arguments seemed childish.

The High Prince was not sitting like a typical coward in his gilded room, but instead he was waiting, dressed in riding leathers. His traditional High Prince cloak was draped over his chair. The grand room, even with all its expensive silks, seamless furniture, and quiet air, seemed confining and musty when the Prince stood to his total height. In all honesty, he seemed like an impatient warrior, itching for a fight.

When the growing teenager entered the room, gazing at his master with cold eyes, Ganondorf said quietly, "Colin, I will trust you."

Watching how his charge stiffened, he continued, "You have graduated from simply being my page. Instead, I will train you harshly in the ways of war and horsemanship. You will become a Knight two months ahead of schedule, if we begin with weaponry today." Glancing back at Colin's frown, he sharply lowered his voice.

"I am not raising you to this status simply because I seek amendments. You have showed incredible judgment that I would not have seen in even a veteran Knight, and for that, you have passed my expectations. It is time to increase your training, and your ability to fight. We may not be able to change this war, but we can definitely show that you are ready to make decisions for your country."

In a split second of silence, Colin relaxed his shoulders in confusion. The Prince was finally going to train him? After months and weeks of vague promises, he could still be lying. Something told him otherwise. Quietly shifting his leather-bound feet on the rug, he bowed deeply. When he rose, Ganondorf was waiting for him.

"Sir," Colin spilled before he could stop himself, "I have spoken out of turn-"

"No."

Blinking in astonishment, Colin took another deep breath, frown deepening his tired face. Watching his role model shaking his red head in confusion, the boy knew he must speak before Ganondorf forbid him to even move. He couldn't have this guilt riding him anymore. "Sir," he tried forcibly again, "I apologize."

When the Prince said nothing, Colin shivered, repeating, "I spoke out of turn, and I deserve punishment at your disposal. Please, please…" He bowed his head as deep as he ever had in his life, sweating, "…_please_ forgive me."

The small boy heard boots echoing over the polished wooden floors, and Ganondorf was suddenly above him, massive but assuring. Quietly, he grasped Colin's leathered shoulder, turned him about to face the large door, and said clearly, "Colin, you are my page. I require no flattery. You are worthy."

Then the two had whisked themselves out of the room.

Colin's mind was numb, but relieved. With those words, his master had forgiven him…unless they were going to punishment right now. But somehow, as they trekked down the familiar stone stairs he doubted that was the idea.

Passing the lower banquet hall, they swung around the west corridor. Colin saw a few pages and their masters heading through the halls, and each gave them a proper nod or salute, but none ever came near them. The paneled walls slowly began changing from wood to bricks. At one point, Ganondorf halted. Pulling a key ring from his pocket, he opened a door embedded in the rock wall. With a wave of his hand, he stationed Colin outside. He disappeared in the darkness.

Colin peered inside. It was too dark to see much. The big man was rifling through a couple of objects, one of which looked suspiciously like a sword. A metal rack gleamed from the light streaming in through the doorframe. Nervous, Colin retreated.

After two minutes, the High Prince returned. He had sheathed whatever materials he had in his belt; only the circular scabbards gave any idea of what the weapons were. He only glanced at the boy -who was trying to avoid eye contact- before locking the door and continuing down the hallway. What was he planning?

Colin felt embarrassed as he followed his master. How could he allow himself any freedom with The High Prince? Even his Zoran and Goron friends were wary of their masters, more respectful than facing the goddesses themselves. A small lock of blonde hair fell into Colin's eyes. He blew it away absentmindedly, noticing the familiar corridor come into place.

Ganondorf opened the door that led to the courtyard, holding it for the small boy as he edged through. Together, they descended the cracked stairs with layers of dust and grime peeling off on the humans' boots. It was peaceful, and although the snow was gone, the ground still looked dead.

This stone courtyard faced the cragged, impenetrable mountains on the west, and although a high wall ringed it, it was never manned. This part of castle was never going to be breached from the outside, and Ganondorf knew it. As a precaution, the West Gate -a half mile north- was bound up tightly with chains, wooden stakes, and metal crossbars; nobody had passed through to the hillside for years. All attacks upon Hyrule came from the east or north, down through the flat fields perfect for large-scale battles.

Since it was deserted, Colin had found it a place to think. In the summer, if he was not busy, the page wondered if Ganondorf would let him plant a garden. Strangely, he needed a place to work his hands and not think about politics or studying. And stranger still, he missed doing menial chores like he had at Ordon Village.

An odd thud drew Colin's attention back to the present.

The huge man, blocking out the sun, pressed a weighty axe into Colin's hands, earning a quiet look of curiosity. His dark eyes stared down, impressing the responsibility of the weapon without speaking into his page. When Colin nodded, understanding the challenge he was to be facing, the High Prince said, "This axe is your life until I say otherwise. Treat it with respect, and learn how to wield it with two hands."

Colin was nervous. The metal in his hands was razor sharp; it looked like it could have sliced open a rock. Would he be training with Ganondorf, a seasoned warrior? Ralis and Darunia said that pages often trained together in the yards; all types of instruction was available. His fingers twitched on the metal-plated grip.

"You haven't ever held an axe, have you?"

His ears turned scarlet. "...only to chop wood with."

Ganondorf's face was quiet as he studied the boy's shamed face. In his hand, an ebony axe was settled. Colin realized he had taken the huge axe from the dusty, spare armory. That hellish weapon, gilded with iron and gold, must have weighed half a ton, although it was diminutive in his massive hands.

"Hold it with your palms and the inside of your knuckles," he said, rearranging Colin's hands, "It's not about hacking, but using your arms and momentum to control your movements." Holding the shaft, he let Colin try the swing. It was too stiff, but Ganondorf moved the boy's elbow, physically making the heavy axe curve smoothly.

"This is how. Swing like that every time."

Colin tried to memorize the feeling; the axe was pulling his elbow out, while the weight dragged down his muscle. It was difficult to keep the metal level. He kept his arm flexed while Ganondorf studied his swing. Second by second, it grew heavier.

There was silence. Ganondorf saw the boy's arm start to quiver, but he said nothing. Coliln continued to hold it, although sweat was beginning to soak his shirt along his lower back. The air was increasing heat, despite the promise of a cool spring.

Finally, the High Prince said, "Good. At ease." Colin let his arm slowly down, wincing at the tense muscles. However, the big man did not back away. Approaching his page in a defensive position, he nodded, a sharp jerk to show that the work wasn't done.

"Begin."

_**XXX**_

Colin had never known Ganondorf to be a teacher. He was a warrior with the awesome power of the gods, and the intelligence to go with it. He was a wily politician, the son of the notorious King Ganon IV of Hyrule and one of the youngest council members. But in those weeks to follow, watching Colin settle into a crouch, and readjusting his position while explaining where the power would come from, he was an excellent master.

He began to teach Colin how to block a thrust from any weapon with only a flick of his wrists and the flat of the axe. Colin had studied almost every waking hour, dancing when he was alone in his room, and trying to feel the grip of his heavy axe. He was always exhausted; he spent five hours sleeping, two hours to himself, and the rest was training. To help build his arm strength, Ganondorf had him strap long lead weights to his upper and lower arms. It made him ache every moment of every day.

Every morning after their sparse breakfast, the High Prince and his page would go out into the cleared courtyard, practicing while the weather was cooler and physically conditioning when it got hot enough to fry an egg on the stones. In those particular exhausting sessions in the heat, Colin stretched, pulled, shoved, and lifted weights, increasing his flexibility, stamina, and power through the exercises.

When Colin looked back on the beginning of his training, he realized his strength grew expodentially. His arms and legs began to bulge, his stomach toned, and his lungs became pumping machines. After conditioning for so long, he could run flat-out for a mile, then three miles at a slower pace. It was astonishing how he grew, although he didn't know it was happening as it was.

His training increased one day when Ganondorf suddenly took his axe, and turned to Colin. With a ferocious grin, he had taunted the boy, and before he knew it, they had begun to fight. Not wanting to disgust his master, Colin had used every technique, sweating, thinking, and laboring to bring the large man down. After an hour, he hadn't managed it, and Ganondorf called a halt.

For another few weeks, Colin had fought Ganondorf, steadily gaining wit - enough to push the huge man back into the corner. Although the page was still lean, his arms had grown into coils of power, and finally, in one afternoon session, he disarmed his master, breath labored and sweat dripping off of his neck. Moments later, the huge man had rolled, kicked Colin's stomach, and brought his axe back up, but Colin had disarmed him.

The boy would never forget Ganondorf's proud smirk.

Since then, working as diligently as he could, the page had managed to master the Great Axe, the Hammer Axes, and the Throwing Hatchets. His body grew even more muscular with the heavy workload that the Prince was pressing upon him. Every evening, he ordered Colin to give him an exhibition, showing the dances of all of them. After, they would spar as hard as they could before the sun vanished. Colin more than once went to bed with his stiff legs bandaged and his ribs sore from the workouts. Sometimes, the High Prince sent an ice pack to place on his wounded, strained tendons.

The High Prince, although aloof and strict, was helping him along rapidly, showing him faster, quicker, better ways to advance. More than once, they would run together around the courtyard until Colin's sides were aching from trying to keep pace with his master. Those long days' ends were spent lounging on the stairs and watching the sun slip below the spring mountains.

Training meant more to Colin than anything else. He spent hours sparring with Ganondorf, talking to the man with his rural Ordonian accent, no longer afraid to hide it. If Vaati could have seen him now, the professor would probably be dying to get in a hard smack for no respect in the High Prince. Colin knew that it didn't matter any longer how he spoke to anyone. He was the High Prince's page; if Ganondorf didn't mind, then Colin wasn't changing.

Before long, Colin was joking with the High Prince, trusting him with worries and doubts of his family, his training, and the future. He told his master about the lazy days of winter, and the fun he had in summer causing havoc. Many times, he slipped that he had doubts about attacking Twilight, unlike the rest of the pages. Ralis, Darunia, and their masters were probably the only ones who would agree. In the quiet, his master only nodded, face relaxing with the revelation.

For his part, the large man was always ready to listen, even if his answers were cryptically reassuring. One night lying in his bed, Colin realized that Ganondorf was his mentor, his master, his older brother.

By showing him the prison weeks ago, trusting the boy, and finally beginning his training, the High Prince had gained his total and complete trust.

_**XXX**_

"Look at them. Pathetic."

Talo raised his head from pouring over the formation papers, ignoring the exhaustion riddling his bones and under his eyes. Shaking his darkened hair, he promptly stood to his ever-increasing height, obeying the command with strict discipline. Heading to the window, he allowed himself to glance at the Dark Knight.

Cero was not old; in fact he was only in his thirties. Tall, handsome, and calmly persuasive, the man could have ruled an empire with a grip of iron unbeknownst to the people under his reign. But the way his scarlet eyes narrowed in his smooth face, and the way his mind worked behind his black hair was anything but what a citizen looked for. His scarred hand came up, motioning for Talo to direct his attention to the courtyard below. His page did so without any question.

Gazing down below, the boy felt his anger surge hot in his chest. In the quiet, deserted courtyard, two figures were sparring, huge axes slicing the air like butter in an incredible dance. Every once in a while, the setting sun would cause a glare across the strong metal. Pinpricks of fire would slice through the shades, and the clang of metal could vaguely be heard below.

Talo glared at the smaller figure; he was dripping with sweat and confidence as he parried, then attacked in a circle motion. The tall one- anybody could have known it was Ganondorf from even this far away- was shouting something over the roar of their false battle, instructing Colin expertly. For a few minutes, they parried and Within moments, the High Prince's page had danced within his master's grip, and with a practiced slash, drew a streak of blood from his arm.

Talo shivered in anger, wondering why the two had finally begun training. Was it the impending war? Maybe the Prince was finally taking interest in Colin? The possibilities sped through Talo's mind.

Although he wouldn't have ever told Cero, he was afraid of Ganondorf. He was as muscular as a warhorse, as tall as a bear. The High Prince could destroy more than a squadron of enemies with one lofty swing of that very axe; with his sword he was twice as deadly.

And here was Colin…learning the secret of power…

"You know, there's a way to disrupt this." A hand crept up Talo's shoulder, turning him abruptly back away from the window. The Ordon boy frowned with consternation. Cero's clever face was smirking as he shook his head in amusement.

"How?" Talo felt the words slip from his lips.

Cero laughed. "There are some secrets that our dearest prince hides away. If I put them in his face, his life, in that very courtyard where they've been practicing for at least a week…" The dangerous grin widened.

Instinctively, Talo felt the burning desire grab his chest, even as Cero sat down at the huge desk, beginning to write a draft in his spindly writing. Scratching engraved itself into Talo's inner sanctum, and he bowed, returning to the window. He continued to glare at the laughing figures until they retreated through the courtyard door.

The ability to create Ganondorf's worst nightmare was the Dark Knight's specialty.

And even if it took more time away from sparring, Cero would find a way to make it reality.

_**0**_

_**0**_


	12. Only a Slave

_**A/N: Slightly rewritten. If anybody reads these author notes, I just want to ask and see if my writing is any better or worse. What do you like about my organization, or character development? PLEASE HELP. I need feedback to grow!**_

_**Reviewers: la generala, Irelandgal131, Lost Socks and Leprechauns, TheFinalCountdown, CatVista, earlthegiantsquid, Vopi, DynturaDJ, Mikure, and Principessa Dell'Opera.**_

* * *

_**XXX**_

_Only a Slave_

_**XXX**_

On the comfortable dorm bed, Colin woke, feeling a headache pounding at the base of his sore neck. Automatically, he glanced at the murky window. The alleyway was dry; garbage was splayed over the stones as a stray dog gnawed at a bone. The boy saw the faint rays slipping in, coaxing him to rise. Stretching like a cat, he soundlessly lurched to his feet, hands running through the strands of long blonde hair.

The room was barren. Both Ralis and Darunia had left early, one to the training yards and one to his master's political offices. Despite the ungodly hour, Ralis had swept five pairs of sweat soaked breeches into the corner. The sheets on his bed had been tugged down and creased as perfection. Someone was definitely overachieving.

Sighing, Colin began tugging on all of his clean clothes while hopping to the door, eager to get back to training. After mindlessly pulling on the heavily laced boots, he slipped a hand-held ax into his belt.

He thought, _I am going to grow a rattail. _

Out in the deserted hall, there was nothing unusual, save for the amount of light. It was relaxing to have the warmth on his back, even this early in the morning. Six o' clock and the sun was rising. Summer was finally bursting with colors, smells, and sounds. Quickly, he began to head towards the courtyard, the only short cut. He was minutes late.

His first duty this morning was to inquire upon Ganondorf's requirements. The big man was always in his study this time of the morning, either watching the mountains or studying his political documents and news from the city. After a training schedule of today, Colin would return to the kitchens, bring his master both an apple, and a slice of pork on warmed bread. It had been their ritual every day over the past couple weeks, and for the time being, it showed no signs of stopping.

Colin opened the enormous door to the courtyard, taking a deep breath of fresh air. The place often got stuffy, full of both dust and mildew. Spring-cleaning was his favorite time of the year; the foul smells faded, leaving the scents of coming rain and flowers. Without even thinking, he closed the door and jogged down the stairs, eyes and mind wandering.

Then he glanced up and saw him.

The blonde man was absolutely motionless. He was crouched against a recently embedded metal post, feet and chest bare. His eyes were cold as he stared at the young man. His arms were crossed over the laceration scars on his chest. Dirt and grime was smeared across his pale skin, finding its way into the minute crevices, while bruises ranged from his shoulders to his waist. There was a fist sized purple circle on his high cheekbone, somehow eerily handsome.

Colin hesitated, fear halting his heart. His muscles tensed.

In the daylight, the prisoner known as 'Link' was much more human. In the dark prison, he had been the king predator, ready to fight at the drop of a pin. Now, the way he shifted his weight was one of uncomfortable defiance. It did not make him any less deadly. A grown man would have skirted him like the plague, stepping hastily from the savage's lean and coiled body. Colin stared into the proud, fierce eyes, numbly wondering how he had been placed here, and _when_.

This was a serious matter. A felon was unleashed in a public area; if any minor Council member found him, he or she could gain instant success prosecuting on account of abuse of military, corruption of reigning monarch, and insufficiency of space in the Tower. None of these could possibly have minor consequences.

Or was it a political move? The metal post had not been in the courtyard had five o' clock last night; Colin had passed through on his way back from the mess hall. Was this a dig to intentionally draw out a response from the King or High Prince? If anything, a news agency would have snatched up hints from an aggravated politician in the dead of night.

An eight-foot chain stretched from the prisoner's thin ankle to the heavy metal post. It lay there, wickedly gleaming like a dark secret in the morning light. The links were thick, nearly as large as Colin's entire hand. On the brittle ground around the captured prisoner, there was a white warning circle, eighteen feet across.

Had men been digging this all night, readying it for such a prisoner? No poor, non-influential man could have ordered this so neatly and quick. Connections had to be made for this level. Who had that authority? The boy could think of ten or twenty persons with that clearance, none of whom should be trifled with lightly.

And his master was on top of the list.

The boy hesitated for three seconds; Link had been glowering at him. Colin didn't know when, but a shiver of pure fear shot up his spine. The courtyard seemed suffocating. He felt like a rabbit under a hawk's gaze.

Colin sprinted to find Ganondorf.

_**XXX**_

Instead of waiting impatiently for the sweet red apple and fresh baked bread, he took a bar of honey wheat up to the study of his master, feet pounding on the wooden floors. He took the stairs all in stride, eyes focused on the gleaming royal door in the Prince's study. Slamming into the door, he jerked it open, thankful the guards were not yet stationed. In the shadows, he sought the man in his study, eyes hallowed from the long night.

At the resounding entrance, Ganondorf's red-haired head shot up, regal, but his guard lowered once he saw it was his page. He settled back, face blank before a frown worked its way onto his broad features. It barely fazed Colin; instead, he bowed, and walked closer, seeing the High Prince's alarmed gaze.

"Sir," he said quickly, "Link's in the courtyard."

The reaction was instantaneous. Like lightning, Ganondorf was up to his full height, scarred hand clasping his sword as he moved around his enormous desk. "What?" he snapped, strapping the overly large Sword of the Sun to his hip, "Who gave the command?" His black armor clinked quietly as he stormed by; his shoulders swiveled as his legs carried him to the door like an offended cat.

Keeping stride, Colin answered just as steadily, "I'm not sure. I passed through last night around five o' clock, and there wasn't a sign of the metal post he is now chained to. They must have embedded it last night, or early this morning before anybody headed through the halls to prison."

"Yes," Ganondorf replied, forcing himself walk, "But if any dignitaries or Knights see this as what it really is, the power of the throne could be unsettled..." Doors swung open before them, a maze back the way Colin had come. The tapestries moved past their eyes like water as the pair took shortcut after shortcut through the darker corners of the palace. The boy struggled to keep pace.

Wordlessly, Colin set his jaw. "Sir," he said slowly, "...Is anybody even qualified to break such a criminal from jail?"

"Only my father, and after months of regulations and paperwork, myself." The High Prince barely hesitated, eyes darkening. His legs continued to push ahead; they were almost to the door. He shrugged quietly, "That's what bothers me. Cero is the highest commander under my leadership who could manage this scale of felony. And no doubt if he told the guards it was on my order…"

Colin's heart jumped. Cero was Talo's master. _Talo. What was happening to his friend?_

By then the door was rising, a behemoth in the dusty corridors. Colin let Ganondorf take the lead, but stayed on his track, ready to see how the man would react. If Cero was the only one who could have persuaded the King to this action, what did the Black Knight get from it? His brother's humiliation? Wealth? Satisfaction?

As soon as Ganondorf was through the heavy gateway, he drew to a halt, mass foreboding in the giant sun. It was as if a cloud had passed over the entire area; the fresh air was still and strained. The walls of solid stone were like the mountains, watching with a strangely empty gaze. Colin felt like his master's shadow, anxious and wondering.

The man of the wilds was settled down, but searching the pole with bloodied fingers, as if he could dig it out. His back was scarred; ropes of pink flesh glimmered. Once he heard the scraping of boots on the flagstones, he nonchalantly peered over his shoulder proudly. Eyes glanced up to meet with Ganondorf's emotionless ones, and the prisoner stiffened, ribs sticking out over his emancipated hips as he turned, hands balling into fists.

When his eyes widened in fury, his eyes became as savage as a wolf.

Ganondorf took a few heavy steps down the stone stairs. The man on the ground was shaking, yet somehow, he was keeping the quivers in his muscles almost unnoticeable. Even when the High Prince stopped barely ten yards from him, Link's eyes were narrowed, and he crouched on the ground, hands digging into the silt.

Watching the man taunt him, the High Prince only stared, but Colin could see he was calculating. Rules, regulations, paperwork, politics; this was a reaction to a slippery action. What had caused it? Yet, now that it was out of his hands, the boy felt like he had lost something important. Control? Pride?

It wasn't long before Ganondorf turned on heel and headed back into the dark castle.

Colin stared in confusion for one moment, hesitating as he glanced at the furious creature. But as he heard his name being called by a very important master, he headed towards the entrance, refusing to think any more of the implications of finding such a dangerous criminal locked in a courtyard.

_**XXX**_

Link was having some difficulty staying awake.

He had been beaten into wakefulness at the crack of dawn, then blindfolded and chained before being dragged down to this western courtyard. He had his ankle cuff hammered to a metal post with a hollow ring before the guards left him. Without any idea of who had commanded him to be removed from his family in prison, the wild man was determined to find the person responsible.

The opportunity had come and gone with the arrival of a page boy, then the Lord Ganondorf. Both had stared rudely -shocked and fearfully- even though Link hadn't spoken. He had tried to think of anything to say, but the words were destructive. He wanted information, and being rude was not the answer. After almost no debate, the two left rather hastily. It was enough to cause a snake of vindictiveness to rise in Link's chest.

Even though he knew it was wrong, Link hoped the Lord would put him back into prison. His love was waiting for him, not knowing why he had been taken or if he remained alive. His whole family could hold out, but his wife had the right to know.

When he had been taken, his family had silently raged when the guards had bound him. As reasoned beforehand, they remained quiet and nonchalant. Unnerved, the guards had basically carried him, refusing to let his feet touch the bare ground. He had tried to tell the dark figures to conserve strength, but with a gag, he could only icily gaze at Sheik, hoping his cousin would calm Zelda down after he was gone.

From the way he had been dragged up cold hallways, it had to be on the main level, in an easily accessible room. His wrists and ankles had been strapped together numerous times, while he had been gagged and hooded, then lashed to a stretcher. Within a few minutes, the nameless men had whisked him to the courtyard. He had remained quiet until a man had accidentally loosened an ankle tie; in a split second his foot had thrashed free and he was struggling to remove his hands from the braces. That was when his world went black.

Awakening to a throbbing head, he had realized he was alone. The air was not cold; nonetheless, he was chilled. He was lost. He was hurting. He missed Zelda.

Since then, he had plotted his escape. He would cautiously test the strength of the chain and his own flexibility and pain tolerance. Several times he had tried to crunch his hands down and through the metal ring. That had only resulted in painful cuts that continually bled if even brushed. Slowly, he had begun to meditate, and think of the escape once he was free.

In the courtyard, there was only one 'guarded' wall to the outside, and that was directly in front of him, to the west. Mountains with thousands of hiding trees lifted towards the heavens just outside the unnatural wall, a sign of home and hope. Link grew more and more calmed, feeling only the determination and anger that he had since Dark had turned in his entire family.

He had been separated from Zelda for a day, a day without seeing her shining, beautiful face. It was the first time in years. She was all he could think about; the smell of rain in her hair and her soft skin filled his mind until there was nothing left to obsess over.

A vow had been taken as the sun rose; he would think of her like this every day, remind himself that his love was still true. Nothing could break them.

He remembered how they had slept under the stars in the dewy grass, and how they had laughed. Sweetly, they had made love. His heart pounded and his cheeks warmed even thinking about it here alone. It was the only time he had really understood her, had ever been understood by his soul mate. She had only looked at him once, gazing past his exterior straight into his heart, and she knew he would do anything for her. Anything in the world.

It had been his heaven, one of the last since his brother had brought the army of Hyrule down upon his old family in the middle of the night. The silent screams and bloodshot eyes were scarred into his memory, as was the feeling of desperately holding her close, crushing her to his chest. He remembered kissing her forehead, one arm around her shoulders, the other holding the Master Sword in a grip of iron.

Even though he had begged her to run, had pleaded, had tried to force...she refused to be parted. It had been hell then, to see his world fall into his brother's hands once again.

It was a slim chance of fate that all of his cousins and his love had been placed in the same prison. Why had they not been sent to different holding cells in the Hylian prison? It seemed too good to be true that they were together. He had known it wouldn't last; that's why it was probably Cero who had put him out like a dog in this courtyard.

That betrayal ran deep indeed.

Without warning, the door swung open, drawing his attention away from Zelda. Link stiffened, arms holding his lean body up from the cold ground as he readied for a fight. He hated waiting here, incapacitated.

His brother looked like a fake idol, dressed in expensive silks and leathers. Black hair was draped into his face, nearly a mimic of Link's. His skin was tanned, his demeanor calm like Auru's. A smirk was plastered over his lips, but not in his red eyes.

Just behind him, a dark-haired boy nearly as tall as the traitor stood, whispering something. Dressed alike, with his hair cropped short, the boy had a sword sheathed arrogantly upon his hip. The traitor to his family stepped onto the dust, rocks crunching underfoot. A familiar shining sword was naked in a leather glove. The outrage sliced Link's heart into a black pit.

"What a hero...goddesses you're pathetic, brother."

The Dark Knight wandered closer, laughing quietly to himself. At his back, the boy slunk closer, a crow at home in the presence of a snake. The sword nudged Link's leg, drawing a wicked grin from the boy. It made the man on the ground tense. The two seemed so alike; Link wondered if Dark had anything to do with the boy's image. Their eyes were dull, humorless. After all, whomever listened to a snake was filled with its poison...

"Hell," the black-haired traitor snapped, talking to his companion, "Do you think if he got any filthier they could saddle him and call him an ass, page?"

Link bristled, before saying quietly, "My brother is long dead."

The sword whistled straight to Link's neck, tracing the newly healed pattern of scar tissue. The page had drawn his own sword, a mirror image of the older, crueler man. He waited like a statue, eyes glued to his master. Dark's eyes were blazing, although his body was relaxed, and in control.

"You never had a brother," he hissed.

The darkening sky seemed to be shivering; the sun was shifting behind storm clouds far behind the mountains. The yard was more quiet than it had been all day. If not for his _visitors_, he would have settled down to meditate.

Dark glowered at the inattention.

"Even if we were born on the same day, I am three hours older," he stated, "More mature. I know how the world works, I know how I'm going to take my share of it." His feet took him one step closer, and he finished angrily, "I will show _them_ that I was the true leader, the one who should have been respected instead of ridiculed-!" He took another step closer, sword pointing straight into Link's chest.

The man on the ground gazed up, thinking, _Just one more step…_

"And what would you expect from a half-wit prisoner? They followed you into the darkest place in their hearts! Your entire family will die here, on foreign soil, in the dark. Their bones will rot!" A laugh tore through the air. "I have waited to see this day, to see the trust fade from their eyes. They will see that you are nothing more than a bastard without a plan, without hope, without courage..."

Link stiffened.

Dark's eyes hungrily ate up the emotion. "That's right. Everybody believed you were special, that you were _chosen_." His jaw clenched, strikingly similar to Link's. The boy bated at his side, shivering despite the sun.

"Master," the tall boy said darkly, "This is the one who stole everything you ever had?"

"Yes, Talo," the man said, eyes narrowing, "He is what made me what I am today. I could have been different. I could have been the white cleansing light upon the land, had he not taken my home, my emotions, my-" He cut off "-no! That wench is still mine. I loved her first without all of your horse-shit lies!"

His yells were echoing off the stone. Despite the words, Link felt his fist clench. How dare his brother even speak-

The door on the opposite wall slammed open. Dark and Talo jerked. Like an old church, the entrance thudded on its protesting hinges. The page jumped away from Link as if burned; Dark followed suit. Within seconds, the older man had sheathed the Master Sword, bowing to show courtesy. A mask of a military man had been pulled across his true face.

A huge man was standing there, his eyes more ferocious than that of Dark's. Link even felt himself sink into the ground, although he rose again. His hands ached for a bow, or even a knife. He hated to be weaponless.

"Lord Ganondorf…" Dark murmured, trying to collect his words, "I was merely-"

"Leave, Cero," Ganondorf stated, throwing his cloak behind his brawny shoulder, "I have rights to my slave."

Unbelieving, Link rose, almost on cue with his shocked brother. Their faces were pulled into matching arrogant scowls. The resemblance was eerie.

"What?" the black-cloaked man snapped, jerking angrily, "What right have you to take this creature away from my legal right?! He is my captive by rights of conquer." The Master Sword was drawn again, shining in terrible power toward the High Prince. A shadow moved just behind the enormous man; it was the boy who had approached Link in the hours of the morning, politely staring straight ahead.

Curiously, Link gazed back at the other boy to see how he had taken the appearance of the High Prince. To his surprise, Link saw hatred suddenly flare, to the point of a fight. The other boy only raised his chin, placing a hand on the staff of a huge axe settled comfortably on his back. It was like the two children were having a blood feud, for simply being the pages of two rivals. His brother seemed to be stirring up trouble wherever he went.

Ganondorf returned the focus of the situation by moving closer. After a moment, he dug into his tunic, withdrawing an expensive piece of paper with the seal of Hyrule upon it and several signatures. The edges were licked in gold. Even Link knew what this had to mean. Cero could only stare.

"I have paid generously for him-almost 65,000 rupees. All transfers are taken care of by the Royal Treasurer, Bulbin. I have bought all your rights through the True King of Hyrule's Codes of Conduct and the Rights of the Ruling Monarchy. The honest man found no troubles accepting my proposal." Taking a step down from his position and closer to Link, he looked down on Cero, saying icily, "I would suggest you leave."

The Dark Knight appeared as if he was prepared to fight. His feet moved indescribably closer.

Reacting violently, Link leaped, toughened hands yanking Dark from his steady position. The page furiously tugged his master away as Link tried to grasp his brother's throat. But the cuff on his ankle cut deep into his skin, drawing more blood than before. Link panted, a devil chained only a foot short of destroying Dark. His whole body stretched.

In surprise, Dark grunted, hastening his lanky body into a stand. Realizing his sudden predicament, Link's mind began working furiously. If he had been bought simply to be taken away from Dark, it was a gift from the Lord Ganondorf. But there had to be something after this, something that the Prince would need. Link needed to test the High Prince's 'compassion'.

Link suddenly lowered his voice, speaking in Common Hylian so the High Prince could hear, "I am no man's property." With a slicing glare from Dark, he continued calmly, "But I will readily side with him if it means I can take the life from you."

Dark hesitated, eyes burning, before smirking in defeat. Grabbing his page's elbow with a grip like vice, he laughed, "I have been beaten." At his side, the boy stood straight, eyes glaring down the other boy. Both tensed as their masters sheathed their weapons.

"...leave these fools to themselves. When we take the pass in the spring, I will personally make sure you are in no condition to lead the attack, _Ganondorf_. I will destroy Twilight, with or without the mighty prince." He turned, shoving the boy toward the opposite door. The two dark figures left without backward glances.

The three who were left exchanged glances simultaneously. Ganondorf's lip pursed thin, while Colin had clenched his fist so tight that the cartilage in his knuckles popped. Link stared at the both of them, dread filling his chest so suddenly it was hard to breathe.

He was a slave. All his life, he had been told no man could own him, that he controlled his own destiny.

And now he belonged to a bastard and his shadow.

"Come, Colin," Ganondorf suddenly snapped, whipping around to face the door, "We must go." The boy immediately followed, hand-held ax returning to its scabbard. Link could only stare questioningly at the two figures leaving hastily. With a final thud, the door shut.

Fifteen minutes, and it was all over. There was no more tension, no adrenaline, no brawling. Darkness had not erupted; the sun was shining at full force now, baking his wounds shut. It felt empty.

_I'm all alone_, Link realized, _I'm completely alone._

_**0**_

_**0**_


	13. Bargaining

_**A/N: I am so pleased with the responses I've had so far; believe me, it helps my morale. Don't worry about seeing more of Link, because he'll definitely play a part in this story.**_

_**Also, I am terribly sorry for the long update. I have no excuses.**_

_**Reviewers: Vopi, TheFinalCountdown, Seldavia, Pyro and Gogglehead, Principessa Dell'Opera, royal princess, and DynturaDJ.**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

_**XXX**_

_Bargaining_

_**XXX**_

The day after the confrontation between the Dark Knight and the High Prince, the entire palace was abuzz with gossip why the sudden hostilities had cropped up over night. Everyone, from the palace nobles to the filth-covered stable boys, knew about the now-open rivalry.

Some of the nobles wondered if it was from the thought of the invading war. All of the dignitaries knew Cero's lust for greed and power- some even agreed with him- and Ganondorf's hands-off approach of it was made clear. Even if he never spoke up in the councils, everybody could guess why it made such an impact: Cero was suggesting war instead of the King's own son. There was more than politics to it now. It had become personal.

The Knights were not easily swayed by the rumors. Stiff, they described Ganondorf as a calm man; surely he would not be upset by just the thought of war? He often partook in them, although little as he could manage. When he did, he was such an adversary that the enemy would hate to face the giant of a man. The Dark Knight was loud, persuasive; he could have taken the opportunity away from Ganondorf by any underhanded means necessary. Cero was never as popular with those outside his 'Seventh Crimson Squad' anyway. He'd always been the second-in-command, but never taking his own offense without some sort of recommendation. That, the Knights reasoned, was why the politics had failed.

Fanatics and the imaginers giggled in the dark that it was a woman, like the traditional petty squabbles between those settled in high places. Hadn't the King had several women, all dead now? Surely his son would follow in his footsteps. Perhaps, since the High Prince was of Gerudo descent, the race would come back from the Terminian waters into Hyrule. Those pirate beauties were said to be the most exotic, most enticing thing that any politician could desire. Rumors were heard from the west and north, where masses of those feminine warriors had been seen. But Cero had never had any desire, and there were no Gerudo prancing about the palace. If a castle girl was the true cause of it, none knew who the culprit could be.

Even the True King, the Majesty Ganon IV, did not intervene or let his position be swayed; maybe it amused him beyond no end upon his gilded throne to see two of the most important men fall to being rivals. No one could understand, especially when neither side was available for comment.

And who would risk his life to bring the subject up anyway?

_**XXX**_

Stationed in his relaxed handstand, Link focused on his inner energy, feeling it course through his straining, dirtied arms. After watching the dust scuttle in the gentle breeze, he closed his eyes, allowing himself rest for only a moment. Letting out a giant breath, the able bodied man pushed himself up and down, balancing as quietly as he could. He needed to reflect, and figure out where to go after the upset of being a slave.

Yesterday's events had stretched his determination beyond the breaking point. Being sold and traded like a slave was humiliating enough, especially when the nobles were arguing over him, but allowing himself to give in to his brother's threats was ridiculous. He had enough of that fool ordering himself around, dressed in the finest silks, eating the freshest meals. Where had the clan loyalty and strength gone? There was only a shell left.

When the time came, he would be ready to fight his brother to the death…with his honor intact.

Link still had no idea how he had let his traitorous brother ensnare his family. He had _ordered_ his entire clan to vanish into the mountains, and all hundred of his cousins, uncles, aunts, friends, and guardians had rejected his council completely, staying with him until the very end.

With Hylians pressing down on them, those familiar faces had all been separated, spliced apart like animals to take refuge until Link returned. Hopefully some of the others like Agitha, Telma, Impa, or Shad had managed to recruit guardians in his absence.

The huge door creaked. Link eyed it for only a moment, watching a quiet figure slipped out in a tunic of worn leather, heading down the worn stairs toward Link. He refused to move, instead mediating on the subject of the page of the High Prince Ganondorf.

He had noticed the smaller shadow, the boy, come to watch him every hour or two after the scuffle last night, probably on order of the High Prince to protect his property. He would stand in the shadowy doorway, face cold and unrelenting as stone with his eyes fixated on Link, as if blaming him somehow. At first, it had been discomforting, and unnerving to be stared at like a trapped animal in the dark, but when the child quit checking upon him, he relaxed.

However, in the morning, the lively page stepped out nearly to the warning line, bowing cordially before speaking in a southern, quiet accent Link found hard to understand. The boy obviously knew it frustrated him, because every once in a while, he would revert to the proper palace dialogue, eyes blackened in exasperation when he did so. It seemed more amusing to Link than anything in a long time. The boy had been checking all morning as well, coming to the warning circle.

When Link could not accept the child gazing at him, he often snapped reproachfully in Ancient Hyrule, causing the youth to shake his head, bringing himself back to the present. Unlike most people, he understood the subtle hint, sometimes bowing and leaving, or retreating to the stairs before resuming his watch. Even if he did not agree with his master, he was there for the better of the morning.

Now, the humble youth was standing as if he was trying to speak his thoughts aloud. Link only glanced at him, somehow seeing a newborn, although the boy was out of even boyhood, but not a man quite yet. Seeing the way he held himself erect and proper, the captive could only think of the training he was receiving through the Prince. This kid had been educated to be polite and courteous, something Link never related to.

The boy suddenly bowed -he seemed to be doing that quite a bit- and said slowly, "The High Prince will bargain with you today." Clearing his throat to remove all traces of his accent for Link, he continued, "Hopefully, for the better treatment of your people, you will become my teacher." His eyes were withdrawn, frustrated and slightly intimidated. Link could only glower before turning back to the pole.

When the boy didn't leave but shifted, Link gathered his thoughts. He tried not to think of his wife. If anyone should be given proper treatment, it was the sun of his life. But he could not give in, especially not now. Bluffing was all he had left.

Taking a breath, he stated quietly, "My family knows how to endure."

"And if your wife is sick?"

Challengingly, the man on the ground glared up at Ganondorf, still standing at the top of the stairs like an almighty god. The High Prince didn't embellish. The prince was not wearing his high cloak, but instead sparring clothes made of toughened leather. In his hands were two wooden staffs, and Link could see that Colin was shuffling back toward the stairs, eyes still dark.

It seemed they were going to force him into this then. Cursing his lack of control, Link turned away. He needed to remain calm, for the sake of Zelda.

"I'll let you see her once every other week, if you will train Colin in the ways of the sword."

His resolve faltered, although he cursed himself for failing in his iron shell. Seeing Zelda and checking up upon her might be the best course of action…But she would be safer unrelated to him in this foreign city. Resolutely, Link shook his head, choosing his words carefully. Ganondorf, the bastard, was using his only weakness.

"No. Give a healthy amount of food for each member of my family instead. Take my wife away from the prison. Set her free."

There was only a split second before Ganondorf said cryptically, "My father, the Majesty Ganon the Fourth, is interested in you and your kind, since Cero mentioned you in today's council session. With or without my permission, he could send you and your wife to the fighting pits…" Trailing off, he continued, "I can stop that."

Link bristled, turning his scarred shoulders and trying to take a calming breath; it lodged in his chest. There was no way out of this one. He could stand fighting or torture, but Zelda…? Thinking of the way she would set her jaw in absolute pain made his head swim. He could never wish that upon the woman who loved him.

Behind him, Colin suddenly spoke, rich in the southern slang to Ganondorf, obviously trying to keep Link out of the conversation yet failing miserably. "But you can still teach me," he argued softly, "I've only learned the axes so far…and you obviously know how to fight with more than that." His footsteps were soft, pressing into the dirt.

"This man could destroy me within five minutes."

Link glanced at the huge man without any emotion, judging him. The two were statues, both at a predicament. The savage scratched an itch on his forearm, instincts cautiously warning him.

Was he simply telling his page to excite him?

Did he really believe a savage could defeat the High Prince?

"-should I train with him?" Colin said, eyebrows furrowed, "Even if I can defeat you, what good will it bring to me?" Colin hesitated, bowing shortly to Link's amused expression before continuing in the palace dialect, "Sir, am I going to fight in the war?" Stiffening, he waited, eyes downcast.

Ganondorf only took one moment to glance at his page.

"No."

Seeing the page's shocked, disturbed countenance, the High Prince sighed. Instead of explaining, he returned his gaze to Link, who had returned to his meditation down to the ground again. Like he was praying, the savage sat cross-legged, listening to all around him without moving a single muscle.

With a step forward to grab Link's attention, Ganondorf bowed. Clearly, a decision had been made. The savage's mouth twisted, and the High Prince suddenly took another step closer.

"Link," he said, "If I set your wife free, would you train my page?"

_**XXX**_

"But what will he decide? If I was a slave…"

Ganondorf's frown deepened, and as Colin paced around the room again in agitation. For once, the huge man was at a loss for words. There were darker things afoot than simply freeing a single prisoner.

In the recent councils, Cero was playing cat and mouse with his very intentions, often delaying meetings, speaking on the King's behalf, and finding new allies that lusted for war. How could he manage a country with that fool riding every decision he made?

"Sit, Colin," he absentmindedly ordered, not thinking. As had become habit, his page didn't listen to a word, just continued to pace in figure eights in front of the window.

"What you need to understand, Colin, is that Link is looking for any opportunity to free his family, with or without help. Training may his best solution."

"Why didn't he accept in the first place? And if his wife is sick, could he-"

"I am not so sure about his motives. Link is a resourceful and insanely strong warrior. He has been proved to be a worthy adversary, especially when we ambushed him. That man is quick. He's always looking for a way out…and I cannot unlock him when we train, which may prove to be an enormous difficulty in sparring…" Ganondorf trailed off, leaving Colin in frustration again.

Hours had sped away already, and the two were still locked up in the well-worn study, trying to pass any time they could with discussions and frustrations. They should be sparring, or studying, but frankly, Colin knew neither of them would be able to focus long enough to do any lasting work. This was his day off anyway. It was better spent trying to understand people than studying warfare.

Briefly, the blonde-haired boy reminisced about his two friends. It seemed ages ago since he had spoken with them, or headed off to the rivers to swim. Darunia was surely busy by now, as was Ralis with his master always attending the Council Meets. Colin felt like he never saw them.

Were they still close friends, close enough to set time aside for the other? Why didn't they ever talk to him during the day anymore?

Finally, the High Prince stretched to his full height, bones popping. Automatically trained, Colin bowed his head, then straightened, looking for any sign of hope from his master. Although a frown was under his skin, Ganondorf smiled; crossing his arms over his barrel of a chest, he deliberately waited until his page settled down enough to listen.

"He knows it is hopeless because he cannot leave his people to die," Ganondorf assured, eyeing Colin, "If he escapes, he will not leave them behind. That's why he's so uselessly tied. He could escape if he wanted, but they need inspiration to continue fighting. Seeing their commander gives them strength."

Colin hesitated.

"But his wife…?"

"He didn't ask for his family to be freed: just his wife…"

Glancing away, Ganondorf shifted his weight to the back of his heels, rocking ever so slightly. Frustration was written upon his face. Colin could see the way he was struggling to even think about the wild woman in prison.

Even at the slight mention of Zelda, the page thought of his mother, pretty face wide, blonde hair shining as she wandered around Ordon Village, carrying his baby _sibling_. Goddesses he didn't even know if the newborn was a girl or boy! He felt guilty.

"Come, Colin. I have come to an ultimatum. If Link refuses, we will continue training as if nothing has happened." Golden eyes stared at the page, determination erasing all of the emotions before it.

Colin nodded, turning on heel and leading the way to the now-occupied courtyard.

_**XXX**_

The sun was sinking back over the horizon when Colin and Ganondorf returned to the courtyard. It still was rank with the pungent odor of dust, sweat, and dirt. Even the stones seemed to weep with it.

Legs crossed, Link faced them, readying for a duel of words, blue eyes sharper than steel. Shivering, Colin gazed up at his master's lean face. Both were warriors…intelligent warriors. This was a battle of wits to determine a battle of arms.

"Have you thought about our agreement?" Ganondorf asked, taking a few steps forward. Calculating, he cocked his head, seeming to already know the answer. After all, he was the master, and he was going to find some way to have this noble savage teach his page in all he knew about the sword. Whatever his purpose, all he could think about was the one way to bend Link to his will.

Link's face did not move, but instead, his arm twitched. Then, he bowed his head sardonically.

"I am sure you have a plan," his glare could have cut through steel, "Does any of it include my wife?"

Shock registered for one moment on Ganondorf's face before he nodded, treading closer to the warning ring. Link watched his every move, waiting for a response. His scars stretched as he uneasily shifted, the metal cuff biting into his bare ankle.

"Of course. I am already prepared to bargain with you in any shape or form. Your wife is included," the High Prince moved around the courtyard, continuing, "She is not in the best of conditions right now. Food is scarce in the prison. Each one of your family would give their life to you. I'm curious…"

His golden eyes flashed.

"Why do you give it completely to your wife?"

Link's answering smile was not a smile. It was a dangerous, all knowing smirk.

"She's my _soul_. Do I need any other reason?"

Drifting around the courtyard for the second time, Ganondorf let out a singular bark of laughter. Sighing, his square jaw relaxed, red beard trimmed exactly. Despite that, Colin could see the veins throbbing with anger and impatience in his forehead, a clear sign of aggravation. Drawing his master's eye, he shook his head, and bowed, knowing he was out of turn. Still, his master checked himself, taking a quiet breath.

"I see. My plan?"

"Yes," Link hissed.

"I plan to remove her complete from the prison, and give her proper nutrition. She will rest in my personal study, and I will take you to see her." Eyeing Link, he suddenly said, "Instead of executing this right away, I want you to pound every inch of what you know into my page."

Link's fury was evident on his face, but he remained silent. Colin felt a pang of pity and the shock of cruelty. Ganondorf had never done something so inhumane as this before. Then, checking himself, the page felt a sudden wave of revulsion. His master had done this to Link on so many levels, not Cero. Ganondorf had imprisoned his family even before he fell out with Cero.

Why was his master even thinking about doing this? Wasn't the point to get her out of prison now, so Link would not think about her?

"War is coming," Ganondorf softly proclaimed, "and I would have him prepared. Once you have completed two weeks of hard training, and if Colin can keep steady with you sparring, I will do everything as I have said. She will get three square meals a day, plenty of rest in peace…all except her freedom. You say?"

As quiet as he could be, Link only took a small breath, eyes sharp. Nothing seemed to be able to shake the man's confidence. Colin shivered. If he had been given a choice, he wouldn't have even thought about anything except his own safety.

"Ganondorf, I do not care if I stay a slave for the rest of my life. My pride can be destroyed for her. I will willingly give it up for my wife. However," the savage deftly rose to his feet, "I wish to see that whatever you propose to help her in carried out...even if that means dragging me through the castle in chains to see her."

"Of course," the High Prince said, easily carrying the conversation, "On the morn then. We're going to start early enough to wake the birds." With his huge boots thumping, he headed back up into the hallway. With a motion of his hand, Ganondorf stopped, eyes fierce as he met Colin's shocked face.

"Colin, you will fight for you life this next week. Don't disappoint me."

Hastily, Colin bowed, and as Ganondorf passed him, he glanced worriedly back at his new arms master. Link's eyes pierced the boy's, and instead of finding hate, Colin could only see hope and determination. Knowing that his teacher knew the consequences, the boy bowed once more, this time showing his disagreement with his teacher.

Link barely inclined his head, but it was enough.

Together, they agreed.

_**0**_

_**0**_


	14. Training

_**A/N: I was very impressed by the feedback I received! I'm glad a few people are still helping me with my writing style. To be fair, this is a half a new chapter, whereas the last one was not. It had been sitting around for far too long, so basically I just rinsed my hands of it.**_

_**Reviewers: TheFinalCountdown, Principessa Dell'Opera, The Never Minder, la generala, Seldavia, Vopi, and x102reddragon.**_

_**XXX**_

_Training_

_**XXX**_

"It's not a log," Link snapped shortly, smashing a metal staff into Colin's lead sword, "It is your arm."

Demonstrating, he moved his body with the staff, slowing down for just a fraction of his ruthless speed. The dirt underfoot scraped against the rigid flesh of his heel as he rotated, weight stretched across his lean body. Without even pausing, the graceful warrior swung down with all his might toward Colin's feet, causing the page to jerk forward past the weapon's reach, and rise up to meet his new teacher.

Link's longer reach and stronger limbs easily slipped past the younger man's sudden offense; with a quick flick of his wrists, Colin's sword was twisted out from his raw hands. Link didn't stop. Instead, he danced around Colin, and swung again, like the longer metal piece was a broad sword. The boy, to his credit, leapt into the air without a split second to spare, and with a fist of iron, descended upon the man's back, perfect in his form.

Link simply swung up with both of his hands evenly spaced on the metal rod, clothes lining the boy in the middle of the air. Feeling a twinge of guilt, he glanced towards the High Prince standing in the corner of the musty courtyard.

Off to the east side of the court, Ganondorf studied the fight, impenetrable gaze merely searching the grounds and position of attack. A hand was on his sword, just in case the savage decision to kill his page. Bones couldn't be broken either: it would slow down Colin's progression.

The boy fell in a crumpled heap of flesh, before rolling backward and up to his feet, swaying for only a moment before resuming his stance, eyes slightly cross-eyed. The seasoned warrior finally relented in satisfaction, bowing to his opponent. Catching on, Colin did as well, not faltering for one moment.

Frowning, the warrior retreated back to his circle, his ankle cuff smarting as he did so. Shaking his head in agitation, he realized with a shallow surprise that this was the fourth day of training. There was only a week with three days until he could see his wife…

He leaned away from that thought, studying Colin struggling on the dirt courtyard. The boy, although learning fast, was a novice. He still thought too much when moving, instead of letting the sword lead his arm. His body was used to brawling, and his hands were used to the harsh movements of an axe, and rolling his wrists.

Learning to use a sword was radically different from the circular movements of the rounded war axe and the lithe arcs of his body; it required finesse and split seconds of decisions. It was a skill for a warrior.

Frowning, Link glanced over at his new pupil. In the feverish sun, the boy was sweating terribly, curled nearly double at his hip with the effort the sword fighting was taking on his overused muscles. Ganondorf didn't seem to mind his pain; in fact, he was berating the boy sharply, eyes disappointed. The page, although riddled with fatigue, looked like he was steeling himself for the fight once again.

Link could only shake his head in wonder. Even Auru had not trained him so harshly.

As if he understood the importance of this training, Colin had thrown himself into it with a zeal Link hadn't thought even such an ambitious boy would have. When he had first handed the boy a wooden staff, he had familiarized the feel in his calloused palms, listening with devotion as Link moved with him over various exercises, positioning his fingers over the wood. He had expertly taken hold of the sword arcs and lengths, taking a moment to think through how he would attack.

If that wasn't enough, he had done what Link never thought possible; he had instinctively found a way to use his body position and the staff to land a hard blow upon the savage without instruction on his third morning. The rest of the sweltering day, they had parried until Colin landed one more blow at the sixth hour of afternoon. All the while, his eyes had followed Link's, memorizing, strategizing and focusing.

In the background, Ganondorf watched with eagle eyes, nodding every once in a while, and showing his approval to the boy with only a nod of his fiery head. That seemed to strengthen Colin like none before; he threw himself into training like a wild tiger. Link found it was almost relaxing to simply _focus_ on training the page, instead of dreaming of his wife.

Link found it strange when watching the High Prince and his page at the other end of the stone court, especially when the giant was speaking to the boy, who listened instead of protesting. Colin's eyes were always trained on Ganondorf, searching for some kind of leadership or instruction, not praise. It was almost as if he saw the quiet, red-haired man as his father.

Turning away from his melancholy thoughts, Link stretched his ribs, then his thick arms, feeling the muscles protest. He hadn't had to fight for several months; all that time he had been locked away in the forsaken cell. Still, the nights were lonelier out here in the silent fresh air than they had been in the crowded, noisy darkness.

Strangely enough, Link ached to talk to Sheik at the present. His brother-in-law was a fine piece of work, especially when he stole around at night, sneaking food, clothes, and horses into and out of others' houses to cause civil squabbles that Link would have to straighten out early in the morning.

Sometimes, he was so infuriating that one just wanted to beat him over his thick skull. He wasn't clumsy; you could never get within reach to strangle him before he pulled your hat over your eyes.

Yet...for all of his defaults, Sheik was loyal to the core. He would never betrayed any kinsman, or even dream about it. If he was rude, it was to all, not individual attention. He was a spirited man, restless and nervous. Of all the girls introduced to him, he had never taken interest in one. Each was discarded for contradictory reasons: too fat, too pretty, too looney, too sharp, too talented, too isolated-

"Link!"

Eyes glancing to the other side of his prison, he noticed Ganondorf had handed Colin the lead sword back. Tall and forbidding, he was nodding his head to the boy, urging him to fight once again, while calling Link to attention. Steeled after only a minute break, the page straightened his back, and approached Link's thick pole, bowing quietly.

Instantly, the savage had risen to his feet, cradling the metal staff with a cocked arm. Like all the previous fights, the boy was ready, crouched defensively, with his hands stable on his weapon. Blonde-haired, eyes so keen; this boy was growing and gaining more strength than Link had at his age. Taking a deep breath, he let out a smirk of anticipation, and leaped toward the boy once again.

Colin jerked under his teacher as Link's shoulder crashed down, the staff breaking the brittle dirt. Like it was dancing on air, the lead sword whipped up, awkwardly aiming for the savage's scarred neck.

For a moment, Colin's eyes hardened, and his muscles bunched; the sword reacted, swinging like a devil's tail straight for the man's crown…

Then he was vanished, slipped out from underneath the sword's deadly arc.

Link, a master of evasion, let his legs buckle, collapsing into a snake's position. Decisively, his bony ankle lashed out with the chain, striking behind Colin's knees firmly. Cracking, his staff hit the boy's ankles, drawing a flat smack.

Without even groaning, Colin threw himself into a dive, rolling forward in a tightly curled ball. His filthy clothes ripped even further as he moved the battle onto the ancient, broken pavement. Leaping to his total height, he immediately retaliated with a downward jab, sword whistling past Link's ear.

Pounding the opposing weapon with his staff, Link's legs automatically pushed him into a spring, using his height and muscles to push the boy back with a quick upward thrust against the sword. Not relenting, he swung the sword wide, hoping to knock the boy off balance.

Colin didn't relent; in fact, he began cautiously circling, eyeing Link, stealthy feet planting themselves softly. He had done this every sparring session, and although it was technically true form for dueling, it made Link roll his eyes. Circling did nothing to faze an expert swordsman intent on his target.

In the still of the courtyard, surrounded by nothing but harsh stonewalls, Link knew he was training the future generation, who would be just as rugged and tough as his own people. Although he hated _why_ he was doing it, he found that actually training a young soldier wasn't so bad.

Colin suddenly feinted right, jerking in a normal fashion. Link, expecting him to dodge the other way, positioned himself to fight off the sure block that was coming. But the boy, to his credit, adapted, and continued to slip to the right, directly into Link's area of attack, sword still uncomfortable in the grip.

Opportunity risen, Link smashed the sword with his metal staff in a split second, limbs reacting faster than any plan would. The boy stayed with him, arms never failing as he blocked, parried, then returned the favor as he flipped his sword to Link's face, pounding on the staff's defense. Solemnly, his eyes focused on the fight, not on his opponent.

Twisting limbs blurred together, the crash of metal drilled into Link's skull, vibrating eagerly on his eardrums. Every moment seemed vital, but every evasion, every thrust, was melding together, taking the minutes away, stealing them forcibly. His muscles screamed for him to stop. Colin, still fighting like a tireless demon, never faltered.

Then, it happened.

One moment Colin had been dodging, parrying a side attack with all of his might. In two seconds, he had vanished, slipped away. Link, who had been pressing forward, stumbled, off key for a moment. A loose slate of cobblestone sent him sprawling onto the ground. As he shielded his face for the abrupt descent, Link heard the pattering of footsteps.

In midair, he twisted, staff whining under the strain. Furiously, the savage whirled blindly, staff sharply slicing the air. The metal whistled, slinking around in a deadly half-arc. It met no resistance, and Link continued his spinning, brutal chain entangling his ankles even further. He released them with an absentminded quick kick, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Dangerously, he whirled…

But something cold slunk under his earlobe, sending chills down his spine.

The sword was perfect against the savage's pounding hot throat.

Quiet descended in the courtyard like death, completely at ease, taunting. On the mountains far above, not even a bird lifted off the ground. Silence was total, and complete.

Then the noises came from everywhere.

Shocked, Link could suddenly hear Colin's labored breath as he struggled to remain standing upright; the sword wasn't quivering. Rocks were grinding under the boy's feet as he shifted, still ready to fight if Link chose so. Pride swelled in his chest, realizing exactly what Colin had accomplished. Wryly, his lips twisted into a rueful smile, holding up his hands in defeat.

In reaction, Colin dropped the sword from his truly perfect position, and bowed, still huffing for breath. Glancing at him, Link saw the sweat streaking through the blonde locks and down the boy's brow, past his wide, but amazed eyes. Although his muscles were clenching up, nearly ready to fall, he remained tall and proud.

Link nodded once, eyes smirking.

"Excellent," he laughed, rubbing his shackles, "Perfectly excellent..." Seeing how the boy blinked his shining eyes, Link continued gruffly, "Go to your room. You deserved it."

Immediately, like a light flickering to life, Colin nodded once, saying, "T-Thank you…" His lean body looked lighter than air as he numbly wandered back over the cobblestone to the High Prince settled in the corner.

Ganondorf, catching Link's eyes, inclined his head toward the man in chains. Automatically, the man sitting on the ground shrugged, eyes burning with the answer he longed to hear. Even though a few days had passed, it might be possible…?

The enormous soldier was ushering Colin out of the courtyard with a simple, "Well done." With his large olive-hued hands, he prodded his page away gently through the open door.

Before he completely vanished, Ganondorf bowed his head once again.

As the two left, silent and quick as shadows, Link fell to his back in relief, exhausted after the boy's…Colin's…fight. Astonishing as it was, it was like he had finally understood, finally realized what the sword could become: part of his body, part of his life...

And Link had earned one more step towards his goal.

Only a week adn two days until he could see _her_.

_**XXX**_

Colin felt alive.

At the present, he was relaxing on his bed, taking giant breaths as his bones cracked and his muscles shouted with pain. It was all he could do not to simply groan out loud. Still, it was a good kind of ache, one that said he had increased his skill, if but a fraction of what he hoped for.

He couldn't really place where the feeling was coming from, especially since his entire body was bruised to a strange numbness. The enigmatic Link had scorned, ridiculed, and beaten him so badly that he wasn't sure he would be able to walk without thinking of the footwork required for sword fighting.

With those fleeting steps ingrained in his muscles, he should be limping back to his rarely used dorm, fall into the filthy bed, and sleep for the next several years.

But he knew he wouldn't do that ever again.

Being taught by Ganondorf had been fairly straight-forward. There were certain moves that he needed to be taught, such as the right-swinging-broadside axe or the vertical thrust. The moves were all the same, only in changing directions.

But there was only so much you could do with an axe; Ganondorf told him to apply the different movements to a situation. For every attack, there must be a counter-attack. It was almost like studying; he needed to memorize what to do in every fight, and how to perfectly react. The High Prince had told him that his muscles would respond in time as long as he knew how to counter-react.

After Link had become his teacher, his whole perspective had changed. Slowly, he was breaking his habit of studying and trying to execute a certain sword thrust or foot movement. Faster than a tiger, Link wound and unwound, thrashed and leapt until Colin realized he must continue to adapt to every situation, even when he had the disadvantage.

In sword-fighting, you could never stay in one place for very long; the sword master might sneak under your guard, causing you to jerk back a few feet. Whole arenas were dedicated to the practice of sword fighting.

Link did not care if Colin missed a block, or didn't attack when an opening presented itself. In fact, the savage only gave him a few meager pointers, and grunted profanities in Ancient Hylian. Instead, he let Colin work on his own time, find his own way of throwing off his opponent's confidence.

And even though it was more work, Colin realized he enjoyed fighting.

He had always been cautious of it. The sight of a bloodied sword had once thrown his comfort to the winds, but now, seeing how easily Link bleed then recovered, he realized he could survive through most anything if he could only defend himself. Ganondorf had seemed pleased with his progress; Link was a physical tutor, not a philosophical one. It clearly showed in every thrust or parry Link made.

That thought kept him fighting as hard as he could. He was learning much faster than anything Talo and Cero were sure to be doing. What had Talo ever been good at back in Ordon? He had been lazy unless forced or had always whined about tiny imperfections, and Colin realized he had been blinded by his friend's amusing personality.

Just thinking about hischildhood cohort made his heart burn in anger. What was the Dark Knight doing to the innocent boy? He knew they were no longer friends. How could they be, when Cero was determined to start the war? Ganondorf had made it clear that he no longer supported Cero. With the persuasion of a snake, Cero was poisoning Talo's mind.

Glancing out of the darkened window towards the proud, majestic mountains, Colin felt his heart despondently harden.

_Talo was no longer a friend._ Cero had made sure of that with his sudden routing of Ganondorf's power. But maybe, just maybe, Colin could snap some sense into his old friend…

_If only, if only…_

_**XXX**_

Recovered from the workout from hell, Sheik took a deep breath, then began his hundred handstand push-ups with ease. His biceps tweaked in his arms from the strain; he let a rush of dungeon air blow past his chapped lips.

Relaxed, he extended his entire body until his feet brushed the top of his cell, waited for only five seconds, then lowered until his nose poked the floor, waiting another five seconds, before extending, waiting for five seconds, lowering, waiting for five seconds, extending…

A bang on the side of his cell made him eye Ashei, noticing how she had been watching him with those dark eyes of hers. Grinning, he continued, regaining his rhythm without even pausing when Ashei groaned. She was wringing her hands together.

"Hey, Sheik," she snapped, picking at some infected scabs on her hands, "What do you think they're doing to Link and Zelda?"

In the cell opposite, Auru's shadow chuckled tonelessly under his breath, obviously listening in on their conversation. Wryly, Sheik shrugged -as well as he could in a handstand- before continuing his exercise. The dark echoed around them. It seemed strange with both their fierce leader and his wife vanished.

"Do you want to know what my imagination thinks or what I believe?"

Ashei scowled, pulling her faded shirt closer to her for warmth. "Obviously," she snapped, "Your imagination tends to over exaggerate. I want to know a likely outcome." Lowering her face to rest on her knees, she wrinkled her dainty nose.

Sheik sighed in amusement, closing his ruby eyes. The rags adorning his fingers were slipping on the gritty stone slabs; balancing, he waited for five seconds, then he extended. His muscles barely strained anymore.

The facts and worries hit his mind like a ton of bricks, slipping straight to his tongue.

"I think," he whispered, "That they are using Zelda as bait. After all, they took our humble Linkin first, pumping him for information. I'll bet he didn't give in, so they nabbed Zellie and used her to pry all secrets out of Link. Which he wouldn't give them either."

Eyes narrowing, he continued morbidly, "Or they just killed both of them."

A dark silence fell, almost as hopeless as the inner woes crushing Sheik. Musing to himself, he realized with a pang that three months must have passed since they were brought here. Even though he had faith in Link pulling them out, it was a very real observation that their leader could have been slain once he was out in the open. That's the kind of thing Cero would do to his own flesh and blood. And if he killed Link, maybe he had taken Zelda…

Wincing at that possibility, Sheik hardened his resolve as Ashei sighed, rolling onto her side and closing her eyes. Although it was a sickening thought, Cero was human. He had his own designs of revenge and greed.

And what about Zelda's illness?

He had so many questions, so many frustrations kept bottled in his chest; it wasn't possible to contain them for much longer. Still, he had to, just so he could keep his clan above the still waters of death. If they gave in, just for a moment…

Then Cero would have won.

Quietly mulling over his woe, Sheik's body continued to extend, wait, then lower…

_**0**_

_**0**_


	15. Friend

_A/N: This is a completely new chapter. All new and improved. :D_

_Reviewers: la generala, ShadowOfTruth, TheFinalCountdown, Harbinger of PIES, Vopi, and Principessa Dell'Opera._

* * *

_XXX_

Friend

_XXX_

* * *

"Who would believe you're already a squire? Guess all that ass-whooping got you into shape."

"Huh! Darmani-goro feels I have grown into a warrior. War, he says, deserves an ally at his side..."

"I believe you mean 'requires'..."

"...he said deserves..."

The three boys were all settled in the dorm, lounging on their beds laughing. Ralis, dressed in a dark blue tunic, was standing regally near the window. Darunia was plopped on the bed, still dressed in a mud-caked tunic. Colin, grinning, was leaning off his mattress backwards, eyeing his two best friends.

It had been three weeks since summer had began, but the spring in Hyrule was busy. With the late winter, the boys had been stuck inside, running rampant throughout the dormitories as well as the palace and in Castletown. Late nights had been spent hooting and hollering down an abandoned alleyways.

An early summer Council session was being held for a few hours; the three boys had simply not left the dorm in the morning. Darunia had been the last one awake, but he held the most exciting news: his master Darmani -in anticipation for the war- had elevated the Goron boy from page to squire. The news was greeted by wrestling and joking.

"I'm anxious for battle," Darunia said, eyes glowing, "I want to prove myself a true Goron beside a master." His pist pumped for better effect, and he continued, "I've gotta sword, a shield, and the strength for it."

The Zoran laughed, turning away from the window. "Maybe not the brains."

The Goron rose and in a single bound, wrestled Ralis from his position. The two rolled across the floor scuffling, with grunts and threats being yelled at the top of lungs. Colin was laughing too hard to be of any help separating them; his sides were splitting and he almost fell from the bed onto his head.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he wheezed, "Do you think those nobles in the Eastern Wing are finally getting married? Last time we checked, they were-"

Ralis held up a hand, brushing the Goron off with a flick. Darunia's smile was wide, and he muttered, "You've got no brawn, goro." The giant boy lifted himself off the floor by his fists. He sat cross-legged, scratching his pale hair.

An indignant sniff came from Ralis. Turning to Darunia, he said, "Brains are what help brawn win the war." Shaking his head good-naturedly, the boy shrugged about Colin. A wink, then, "I think they got married because if not..."

"It's been what, a few months? They have time to cover a pregnancy up."

"Colin-goro, how improper for the page of the High Pince to say. Be ashamed and know fear."

Darunia mocked Ralis, preening, then lifting his nose straight into the air. This sent the boy watching into hysterics again, and this time, he really did fall off the bed laughing. Soon, the two had forgotten the bickering and were chuckling.

The dorm wasn't messy, yet it was comfortably dirty. Like the boys they were, Ralis, Darunia, and Colin settled into the odd piles of essays, uncleaned tunics, and bits of snack foods smuggled in from the kitchens. Tomorrow was laundry-day as well as shove-the-trash-out-the-window-day.

The door opened. Three boys lazily glanced over.

Ganondorf was standing in the doorway, tall and imposing.

It was strange for Colin to see his master outside a public place; the huge man didn't quite fit in the door, and his shoulders were turned sideways to enter. His brilliant red hair appeared nearly brown in the shadows. His eyes were amused.

Within seconds, Ralis and Darunia had shot to their feet, bowing nearly in half. Uncertainly, Colin did the same, albeit slower and he rose without waiting for approval. The High Prince's eyes fell slightly. The page knew that Ganondorf hated simply entering a room and demanding respect.

"Ralis of Zora's Domain; Darunia, squire of the Holy Knight Darmani..." Ganondorf's eyes twinkled when the Goron hid a grin in his bow, "Colin." Once he had said all their names, they stood straight, waiting until he continued. Feeling awkward, the Ordonian boy shifted.

The High Prince picked up on the emotion instantly. He said bluntly, "I have come to retrieve Colin, if that's alright." The timing of the man's arrival was not unknown to Ralis, and like a true politician, the Zora picked a conversation.

"Then the Council session is out, sir?" His black eyes soaked up the sunlight.

The room was beginning to get small for Colin. He hadn't realized how late it was. Training was in two hours, and he needed to eat. Link would not go easy on him just because he had taken a break this morning. Still, he focused on Ganondorf and his friend's conversation.

"Yes. I spoke with your masters in the commons."

That took both of them back, but not so much Darunia as Ralis. Wisely, the boy kept quiet, simply nodding. It was time to go, and Colin pointed that out by sliding on an outer-tunic. His friends watched him out of the corner of their eyes as he headed out with a smile. "See you later, guys. Tell me how it goes, Darunia."

"Sure, Colin-goro."

"Until later, Colin," Ralis added, bowing a tad.

Ganondorf pulled back from the boys' dorm, and the page followed hastily. The curving stairs were only so big, and the High Prince took up more than half of it. Colin felt like a shadow trailing along. There were few pages still in the wings, and those who saw the famous pair trekking down the hall either stopped dead in their tracks or ran the other way, hoping to get out of etiquette.

It was awkward, and Colin never wanted to do it again.

Eventually, the two arrived along a main corridor. Well-dressed military and dignitaries strode past, bowing cordially. There was nothing like making someone uncomfortable, especially for the boy with the rattail at Ganondorf's side. There were always a few mutters as Colin went past. He had long learnt to keep his jaw firm and his icy eyes set ahead.

The boy was surprised when the High Prince took a detour from the regular path he took. It was a left at the Estates Gallery, and through a separate area adjacent to the hallway that led to Ganondorf's study. Colin memorized the path, recalling land marks and paintings.

His master stopped him in a slower corridor. It was deserted for the present. "I have a surprise for you," Ganondorf said, motioning toward a wide door. Approaching, he easily slid in a key, and unlocked it. With a push from his broad hand, the wooden entrance swung open on greased hinges.

Colin hesitantly gazed inside. Involuntarily, he stepped toward the middle of the floor, noticing a small bookcase in the corner. The bed was small, but clean sheets were folded carefully on the edge. The walls were all white. The only point of light in the room was the giant window, gazing northeast. It was quiet and peaceful.

The page knew exactly what it was meant to be.

"This is my room?" Colin asked, appraising the small dorm.

A ghost of a smile crossed Ganondorf's face. "Of course."

The boy nodded, eyes glued to the mountains beyond his window. "Thank you sir," he managed to mumble absentmindedly, hands shifting on the frame. Trees were flowering just in the courtyard below, with people in summer tunics parading back and forth. Laughter could be heard from a private garden just out of sight.

The page was broken from his reverie by Ganondorf's hand on his shoulder. He exchanged a look with his master, and then bowed.

"Thank you," he said more clearly.

In his light armor and cape, the High Prince lost all royal bearing. He nodded, a smile almost appearing. Then, he gently pulled the boy away. "I'm glad you enjoy it," he commented, "But you are due to the practice yards. If I'm not mistaken, you haven't eaten." The huge man pressed a copper key into Colin's hand.

They slipped out into the hallway. It was full of bright sunlight, and the wood was shining. Waking up to this will be easy, the boy thought, watching as Ganondorf blocked the doorway at the corridor's end. The ornate door was a beacon, reminding him to get along.

Colin stole a glance to the window, then shut and locked his new door.

**_XXX_**

The grip on the sword was comfortable.

It had taken him a week and a half to get accustomed to the 'extension' of his arm; a hundred hours later, he was able to wield it with one hand and a dagger with the other. The long steel was about the size of his shin to hip, and sat in its scabbard neatly. Link had pounded at him until his fingers felt broken. All those hours had strengthened him. Now, he held it confidently as he faced down the weapon master.

Link was impassively waiting. His feet were spread in a comfortable stance, the lead sword at his side. His eyes were thin, each movement calculating into his mind instantaneously. When a leaf spun around his head, he didn't even waste a glance on it. Colin knew he had a hawk's vision and a wolf's battle sense.

Despite the grim situation and the hardly happy trainer, the page twisted the rattail at the base of his neck. The hair was knotted and braided so tightly that it seemed like one strand bonded together. Nothing but a blade could sever it.

Across the courtyard, Link gave a feral grin.

Since he had spied it, the slave continually threatened to cut Colin's rattail. It wasn't out of malice, but of persuasion. It had become a not-too-friendly competition to see if the boy was growing and adapting. If he could not even guard his rattail at the base of his neck, then he was dead in the battlefield.

A lead sword identical to Link's in his hand, Colin took a deep breath. Over the castle's wall, a haze of heat could be seen around the stone. It had to be over ninety sweltering degrees on the concrete; Link had refused to stop just because it was hot. Because of the council this morning, Ganondorf hadn't stayed to monitor his charge's progress. It was fine.

Drawing the false weapon across his chest, the boy bowed low, respectfully. Link did not.

"Defense, mortal draw..." Colin muttered, crouching. His sword was held easily in his palm, the tip pointing toward the ground. Without hesitating, he twisted on his heel, and lunged.

The swords connected with a clang. Link's arm swung, and he jabbed the tip toward Colin while his foot slid to trip the boy. Colin simply shifted his feet and took a step back, parrying the attack. He pressed his own advantage by hauling the sword from the ground up toward Link's chest. When the man deflected, Colin pushed, sending him sprawling.

The boy did not gloat, but when Link rolled toward him, grabbing his shoulder in a split second, he felt all the pride in his body disintegrate. Colin's eyes widened.

Then the slave's feet were firmly planted in the page's chest. A hand released Colin's neck loosely as a spring-loaded kick sent him across the courtyard. Pain shot up his back and ribs as his skin ground into the pebbles and flagstones. He landed, but hastily rolled into an upright position.

_I didn't roll my ankl-_

Link's lead sword connected with a harsh clang seconds after the boy rose unsteadily. Fiercely, Colin reacted, parrying a wide swing, then a sharp punch. It connected in Link's cheek, and the boy's body retreated as the man's fist instinctively pounded the air where his face had been moments before. The left hand of Link was inches away from Colin's rattail.

Colin smirked. It would be a fun practice.

_**XXX**_

"That's enough."

Colin felt his muscles tense. The back of his throat was parched; heat from the high noon sun had stripped most of the liquid from his body. Link must have felt this too; it's why he stopped. If both of them died due to heat exhaustion, nothing would be gained.

Link nodded. "I'll get the water."

The slave ambled over to the shadowy edge of the wall. An alcove hid a jug of water with a ladle that Colin had brought from the kitchens. It wasn't ice cold; in their two hour-long sparring sessions, the sun heated the block of ice to lukewarm.

Colin let himself thump to the steps. A thin layer of dust exploded, but other than that, it was cool against his throbbing legs. His bare chest was pink, showing tell-tale signs of an ugly sun burn. His hair was mussed around his crown; his rattail had slid between his shoulder blades.

A loud bell rang out several times: eleven in the morning. Colin groaned. In a few hours, he needed to attend to Ganondorf before he headed to another Council session. What the hell were they doing in there anyway? The war -in theory- had already started...

His training guru sat next to him, passing the jug toward Colin. Like the boy, Link was scorched red. However, his breath was calm and collected. His blue eyes gazed towards his aching hands.

The silence was comfortable as the two passed the ladle back and forth. A breeze blew at the two training partners' backs, relieving the hot sun. Slowly, energy returned to the slave's mind. He stretched.

"So," Link said, grinning at Colin, "How are Ralis and Darunia? Did you sneak through the walls again?" His right hand absentmindedly rubbed his left.

The page laughed, ribs twitching with pain. He winced.

When the trio did have time, they would walk through the castle, finding strange arguments to get into, or secret tunnels. There were thousands of the dark escape tunnels that led out into the sewers, or under the bridges, and exploring came naturally to all of the boys. Oftentimes, they were ahead of the gossip, because of scenes or noises they had heard through the walls.

Colin had told Link all of his rebellious secrets; the High Prince may have won his respect, but the slave had carefully won all of the boy's secrets and fears.

"No, there's been no time. The big boy's been taken along with his master on a small border dispute...and Ralis is...well, he's always been involved. I saw them this morning, but you know how the days go. It's up 'n down and everywhere." His leaned back, his elbows fitting into the stair. Sprawled out, he let his eyes close. The sun bathed his face.

"Hey, do you think..." The words bubbled from Colin's lips before he could stop it. Why had his train of thought ran this way? On the right, Link calmly waited, eyes closed. Taking a shallow breath wasn't hard. It was continuing that made Colin anxious.

"Do you think I'm different?"

A shadow of concern flickered across Link's face. He sat upright.

Colin hastily continued, "I don't mean strange. Some days...some days I visit the armory or the stables, and there are soldiers there. I mean, it's either their guard duty for the day, or they need time to play cards, or they are going on leave. But when I walk in..."

"They stare. They hush. They fear you."

"But why me? I'm just a page. I know it's because of Ganondorf, but he isn't like that. Nobody seems to trust his leniency. Do they think I'm obliged to tell him every once of their bad habits when they're off duty? It's...ah..." Colin ran a hand through his hair angrily.

While pondering the statement, Link had stood, and was beginning to stretch. He bent straight from his waist, hands positioned in front of him. Like an acrobat, he flipped into a handstand; the broad fingers allowed him to stay upright as his biceps flexed.

"I believe it's a matter of preservation." Balancing, Link easily shifted to one hand, closing his eyes. "The Prince has never made a likable figure. He is a Gerudo, one of the lost warring tribesmen. In the legends of old, a male was born every hundred years. He was destined to become the King, and in those days, a King was a warlord. He ruled with an iron fist."

"Like Ganon."

"Like Ganon," Link nodded in agreement, "They fear Ganondorf shares his motives and ideas. The King uses manipulation and fear to coax out rebels, or threats to his own personal standard. Once he manages this, in accordance to his 'codes', which are no more than spurious lies, he can control. Executions are there for a reason: to shame or provoke fear in his supporters so they will not cross him in the future." The man left his handstand. Gazing toward the wall, his jaw tightened. "That's what _he_ did, in the north."

Colin had no doubt about who Link was speaking of. The Dark Knight was a man that lashed out for the consequences, who ached for confrontation. Link, although powerful, was honorable. His followers were in prison for his sake. It was not because they had feared him, but because they trusted him to lead them in the darkest of hours.

A laugh suddenly erupted from the boy's mouth. "Huh."

It was a comfortable silence as Colin stood to stretch and exercise his flexibility with Link. On the stone courtyard, the boy sat on an imaginary chair, holding it for three minutes before steeling himself and repeating. His thighs ached. The muscles felt like a chef had stuck a burning knife into his leg.

Doing his own workout of tumbling, Link was constantly moving. His shoulder lifted his body up into a handstand, then down into a somersault. On exiting the roll, he spread his legs, lurching forward into a push up stance. From there, he held his body in a plank. When he could take no more of the gruelingly slow exercise, he sat in a meditation pose.

His blue eyes peeked under his eyelids. Colin, across the courtyard, was on a set of thirty push ups three times. That boy pushes himself, Link thought.

As the weeks rolled on, Colin had grown taller. He seemed to gain inches every day, and his voice was cracking, although he was quiet enough nobody bothered him. Colin's hair grew until the vibrant white darkened to a muddy blonde, and then it was so long he had began to thread it into a braided rattail or ponytail. His clothes would have to be resized again, and once he was dressed in the larger clothes, his feet would grow. It was amusing, but ridiculous.

Link continued to watch the rural boy. It had been strange how quickly Colin became fast friends with the slave. At first, like with Ganondorf, the boy had never truly opened up. He remained silent as a rock throughout the training fights, bowing and speaking politely. Even if Link hit him squarely across the jaw, he would blink a few times to clear the pain from his head.

Somehow, through that feat, he had earned Link's respect.

Maybe it was a necessity. The wild man was shackled to a pole in the middle of a hot courtyard all day. He exercised by himself, but his only chance at freedom came when Colin arrived for daily training. Teaching and sparring drained anger, and focused on intense concentration and focus. Maybe passing those talents on had been important to Link.

Link hated to admit it, but he looked forward to the training sessions every day. Instead of going mad thinking about the things he could have to done to save his family, he thought about different ways to teach Colin a lesson from his tribe; Ganondorf did not know that was his goal. Long, blonde strands of hair fell across his forehead. He took a giant breath, and closed his eyes.

For as much as Colin had changed into an honest young man, Ganondorf had remained the same. He still was exacting. Oftentimes, his dark eyes would cause Colin to bow his head and not speak for the three hours set aside for training. In his study, the High Prince did not notice often until a messenger came, and then once his attention was out of the politics and cruelties, he would dismiss Colin.

This is what had led Colin to Link. Instead of ignoring him, the slave made an effort to gain a trusted friend. He was ashamed to say he had began looking for an escape, and a young child dumb enough to help him accomplish that. Colin had been nothing more than a tool.

The weeks had been a learning experience. The boy was intelligent, and he seemed to listen when Link emphasized loyalty, trust in kin, courage, wisdom, and power. Instead of rolling his eyes, Colin sucked up every story, every motion Link made. He studied the fight, but did not let it consume his way of thinking.

Link knew he could trust this boy...even with his life.

It was a sweltering day; sweat was sliding down his forehead, matting his bangs. He glanced to check on Colin; the boy was beginning to tumble, rolling then snapping to full attention. He stretched his back in a back bend, thin and lean muscles layered around his shoulder. There were welts and bruises on his arms and chest, but Link was proud to see he was moving past the pain, and focusing on his exercise.

The door suddenly swung open. Link didn't bother to move; Colin had instantly turned in the middle of his front cartwheel, slid to a halt, and bowed. His eyes averted for the High Prince, despite his current orders to speak casually.

Standing like a statue, Ganondorf passed a glance for the slave, who shrugged noncommittedly. When the huge man stepped off the stairs, Link glowered at him. He hated pompous fools.

"Colin, your training has progressed?"

"Yes," the boy replied, nodding in confirmation, "We sparred again."

"Are you going to be using the crossbow soon?"

Colin nearly balked. "Crossbow? He didn't mention it, but-"

The High Prince strode back over to the stairs, easily pressing his power into the slave's mind. Or trying anyway. Link's eyebrow rose slightly; his pointed ears twitched as the giant moved closer. The man's eyes hardened. Slightly shifting his weight, he uttered, "The war _will_ start. Colin needs to protect himself with the most powerful weapon available." he frowned slightly, before asking, "Will you train him by crossbow?"

Link realized Ganondorf had blocked Colin's vision. This was a 'casual' question, but hidden underneath were consequences that couldn't be understood at the present. The slave, without knowing what he was doing, nodded.

"Give me a crossbow."

_Idiot!_ he swore internally,_ don't get involved in the war!_ Time moved too fast: Ganondorf was speaking with an enthusiastic Colin, he was nodding to Link, and he was gone through the door. The headache from a few days ago came crashing back. The slave gritted his teeth.

Why had he done that? Ganondorf was not persuasive, nor did Link even want to cooperate with the man who had bought him like a dog off the streets. The war was not his to fight. It was not his to stop, either. If _he_ wanted to get into a war with a neighboring kingdom, why should his forsaken brother stop him?

"Link!"

The slave saw how the page's face had brightened, despite the few minutes of silence. Link waved him over. The boy seemed so unnaturally upbeat, especially when he sat with a thump on the stairs. It was clear he was trying to keep his excitement in check; a grin kept splitting his face like a jack-o-lantern.

"Well..." he began, wringing his hands, "Ganondorf told me that there is a spare horse in the stables, if you wish to go for a ride...?"

Link's stomach dropped.

"What?" A snort erupted from his nose. "I don't think he trusts me enough." Immediately, he regretted his derision; Colin frowned. The excitement drained from his face. It was awkward enough, but as Link struggled to clear his mind, the answer to training came to his mind.

He had accepted the crossbow assignment for Colin. The boy was close to Link's heart, despite better judgment, but the slave would not see a boy killed in action due to inexperience. Link did not like Ganondorf. Colin was his friend. The distinction was great.

Suddenly, Colin's shoulders lifted. The excitement sprang into his eyes again, and he said, "We could take the horse and Epona into town. I know the guards won't let you leave, but I trust you not to run." There was a slight frown at the circumstance.

Link's heart dropped.

He blinked once, then asked quickly, "You have a mare named Epona in the stables?" His mind felt lighter than it had for what seemed years.

"Yes. I would assume she's yours, since she magically arrived from the north." The page seemed to understand. He didn't act surprised. "I have been riding her, just for a few weeks."

"Impressive, boy," Link laughed, "She's a picky horse. Wouldn't let _him_ ever ride her."

Colin's eyes twinkled devilishly. He produced a key from thin air, and flourished it. For training purposes only, a leather rope had replaced the metal chain. The huge corridor door was always locked. Link felt guilty for letting the boy trust him, but it would be a relaxing day if only he could see one thing that reminded him of home.

He laughed. "Let's go, then!"

The boy eagerly jumped to his feet.

**_XXX_**

Bone-tired, Colin wandered through the halls. His feet dragged like they were weighted with lead. In his exhaustion, he almost slipped into the dorms; at the last minute, he remembered his new room with the window overlooking the courtyard. It was a dream, but far enough away to make his bones protest. He began walking.

Riding the horses out in the courtyards had proven difficult indeed; half of the time, the boy and the slave had settled on the fiery horse and a docile white mare waiting for approval to even pass near a gate. Link's legs had been tied into the saddle, while his wrists were bound together with metal cuffs, so there was no worry of him escaping. Still, the guards were slow and frightened of disobeying orders, so the questions and orders they received from the commanders were double checked, and messengers were sent to the High Prince's study.

Eventually, the pair had ridden the paths in the palace gardens. The daffodils were blooming in full array, and the trees had grown grand enough to shade several ponds. While the horses' heads lowered into resting, the two spoke, ignoring passing social butterflies. For once, the war left the back of Colin's mind.

Once the bell had rang three times, Colin returned Link to the stables, hastily clearing tack and brushing the horses down while the guards stationed themselves around the deadly slave. The young boy had trotted along beside Link on the journey back to the courtyard, still speaking lightly of the situation. The guards in their shining armor had enough pride to look guilty.

There hadn't been enough time to spar and the tall man shooed Colin away. He had told the boy that his back hurt, and he was going to meditate on finding his horse, where his family was, and how this affected him in no way possible. Colin understood the desire to be alone.

He left.

Through the crowded halls of the palace, Colin had stumbled, bowed, shimmied, and scooted to even find a way to the stairs leading up to the restricted levels. Another session had been called. He had spotted Cero striding through the immense Council doors with a handful of hard politicans. Veran, with her pointed face and narrowed eyes, was the first he knew, but when General Onox, the burly man with a sour attitude arrived, Colin looked away.

Unfortunately, Talo had been glued to Cero's side. The page looked at his ex-best friend, eyes devoid of any emotion. The dark-haired boy had seemed so at ease with his master and his master's posse; he rarely even opened his mouth to breathe, let alone speak, so the stately politicans and warriors left him to his own devices.

Colin hated seeing his friend. Talo was different, with dark rings around his eyes, and unkempt blackened hair, and hating eyes. He now carried a short sword that gleamed like the orbs of the dead. And the Dark Knight, Cero, was close, always talking to another noble or lesser soldier while watching Talo with snake eyes, debating. They were inseparable, and Colin wondered how he managed to feel with his master always punishing him with dripping sarcasm.

It had made him angry enough to head down the hallway like the Goddesses were on his heels.

The High Prince had been waiting, and had him discuss Link. It had been a boring topic, but sitting in a comfortable chair reviewing paperwork from the council, Ganondorf hadn't even bothered to look up once. Of course he was listening, and Colin knew it, yet once in a while he would stop, resting his mouth. He babbled about the training, about Link's determination to be free, about the peace from the horse-riding, even about seeing Talo.

Ganondorf hadn't reacted. Colin hadn't expected him to. Slowly time faded, and then, with a wave of an olive hand, his master sent him away. It was over within seconds for the boy, and when he left, his mind had been so full of unneccesary details that he had only wanted to wander.

That's when his body had begun to hurt. His mind hurt. Ralis and Darunia surely had been informed of the new room, and hopefully his friends wouldn't wait up. Technically, he could have visited them, chatted and wrestled, but tonight he knew he needed rest. Who knew what would happen tomorrow?

The room that was now his was still locked and untouched. Colin headed inside, head accidentally hitting the wood frame. He cursed, rubbing his thick skull while locking the actual door. The pain faded. Sighing, he peeled the clothes from his body, and threw them into the corner.

Without one thought of what had happened all day, he put his body on the bed. He had barely closed his eyes before he was asleep.

* * *

_0_

_0_


	16. Reunion

_**A/N: Everyone has expressed concern about how quick Link and Colin's friendship grew, and how Colin seems afraid of Ganondorf. Don't worry. Everything will be well in time.**_

_**Reviewers: TheFinalCountdown, dorkofyourdreams, Eclipse Storywriter, Principessa Dell'Opera, Vopi, and ShadowOfTruth.**_

_**

* * *

  
**_

_**XXX**_

_Reunion_

_**XXX**_

Training had been called into recess for the day.

Yesterday, after a small lesson on loading a crossbow, Ganondorf had brought Link news: he was allowed to see his wife. Unfortunately, he would have to be chained and heavily guarded while he was in the castle. It would not be any more relaxed than the small horse back riding trip; guards would be within distance of killing him at all times. Shocked at the brutal comment, the page had simply let his mouth hang open. Link shrugged nonchalantly, but his eyes were clear. He had wanted this since he had began to train Colin.

At the far end of the stone courtyard, stood the High Prince Ganondorf, regal in battle attire. His copper hair shined upon his crown like a golden sun; his rugged face was downcast. An axe -nearly as long as his arm and twice as thick- was settled easily in his massive grip. Shadowing him, Colin kept silent. He had scrubbed his dirtied skin that morning until it was raw; it was so clean that when he shifted, the rough homespun garments sent pricks of pain into his back, chest, and legs. Colin continued to stare ahead, not having to feign interest in the removal of the northerner.

Both were studying two of Ganondorf's most trusted guards as they unhooked the slave's ankle cuffs, then wrist cuffs. The clanking and groaning from the pieces of iron and oak nearly drowned out the Ancient Hylian mutters coming from Link. He was a dead weight between them, simply hanging loose.

Colin couldn't believe Link had let his pride go.

Neither guard dared to utter a single word, but Colin saw how they shivered when their bare skin touched the "savage's". They exchanged solemn glances, jaws clenching. Obviously, they didn't want to be here, escorting a strange prisoner-slave to the High Prince's study nearly three floors up and a mile horizontal, through many back passageways where they might be caught. To them, at least, it was _their_ pride going down the drain.

Shifting, Ganondorf announced, "We do not have all day, gentlemen." His gold eyes stared at them, strangely dispassionate.

The guards snapped to attention, muscles easily hefting the man onto muscled shoulders. They headed up the stairs, smoothly gliding up the stone steps. Colin had already moved to the door, opening it as the two guards, the High Prince, and a savage entered the side wings of the palace. Ganondorf nodded to tell the soldiers to continue, before grasping Colin's forearm slightly.

"Take the day off," he said. With barely a nod, he disappeared after the strange troops. The cool air from the stone hallways swallowed him.

Colin took it in stride. Shutting the entryway with his gauntleted hands and hearing the click of a lock, he sighed with relief. All he could think of was Link, being taken to visit his wife like a rabid dog in chains. This was a legal way to let a Hylian slave see a loved one, but it was dark way to go about doing such a task. If the High Prince's page had his way at all, Link would be a free man. He could be discreetly taken away into the wilds, released with his wife, and never seen again. That's where Cero had found him, wasn't it?

The worst part was he could do nothing to help out his new friend. Policies were full of loop-holes, but Colin had never been good at deciphering when and where to use them. Political Science had been his worst subject, and he had hated Debate. There was no way he would put the two concepts together and stand alone in front of the Council to make his pleas.

Ganondorf should just free him and be done with it.

Why should Link be forced into servitude, forced to teach a mere boy the art of swordsmanship? Colin couldn't understand any of his master's reasoning. Why couldn't he just release Link? He was his _slave_ after all.

It was idiotic, Colin decided. More idiotic than having a savage training a page who would never see battle.

The page headed to find Epona.

_**XXX**_

Link memorized where he was being taken. The guards had not blindfolded him; memories of the first night away from the prison were cruel to think about now, especially the way he had hissed and spitted. He wondered if it were a simple stroke of luck, or if he were supposed to remember this. So, while he pretended to ache with exhaustion, his icy eyes memorized the grains of wood passing below his hanging feet.

After several minutes, the small group was admitted to a small office-like room. Link purposely kept his head down. Sound of metal stamping wood, boots shuffling, and papers being filed. When neither the guards nor the High Prince made any movements, a raspy voice muttered, "Yes, prisoner calisthenics for subject...998364..." More papers were shifted around, and with some grumbling, the woman's voice came again.

"Go on up, milord."

"Thank you, Lady Impaz-"

"Go away; I'm busy."

"Of course," the High Prince said, "I wouldn't want to disturb you."

An uneasy silence fell before Link's smirk vanished. The guards removed him from the room before he heard any more obscenities from the old woman Impaz. The sound of boots rang out over the floors again, with Ganondorf leading. Quieting himself, he let his weight fall into the uplifting hands again. Relaxing, he tried to slow his heart down before it pounded its way from his chest.

_Zelda..._

Link smiled.

The journey melted into a few more minutes of uncomfortable trekking up stairs through quiet rooms. Halfway through, Link wrapped himself up in fantasies including Zelda in a very pink dress. Soon, it was just him and the beautiful woman alone in a large room with all the time in the world. He could almost feel her soft skin before the procession halted, and the Lord Ganondorf said very clearly, "Set him down." When they complied, he continued, "Let him into the office. Neither of them leave together. Fifteen minutes should do."

Before Link could vehemently object, the guards unleashed him. With the world spinning, Link tried his best to glower at the High Prince. The red-haired man only shook his head, nodding towards the clock. Feeling violated, the savage turned away from the black-cloaked, eyeless guards.

He took in the room in seconds. The study opened before him, strangely confining despite the ceiling-to-floor windows. In a quick glance around the room, Link counted three large couches, a giant desk, several wooden chairs, and a stone fireplace on the back arch. Dominating most of the western wal, the huge windows reminded him of waterfalls with the sun slipping down them like clouds.

His attention was drawn instinctively to the woman settled next to the window.

Instead of seated on one of the comfortable couches, she was standing in front of the screens, slender hand covering her mouth as she shifted back and forth on slim legs. Her gorgeous blue eyes, once animalistic and wild, were impatient, and nervous now, gazing out over the wide hillside. A clean, smoky colored brown dress was fitted loosely over her frame. Link's eyes were drawn to her slightly plump stomach.

She glanced icily towards the door, most likely expecting either Ganondorf or a guard; her hand closed on her stomach. Their burning eyes met, and her entire façade melted in a heart-warming smile.

He was over the firm couch in seconds, scarred hand reaching for her as his feet set back down on the wooden floorboards, soundless despite the banging cuffs. In a bound, he had scooped her up into his arms, face buried into her smooth neck, breathing in her scent as her hands drifted into his dirty hair.

The past few weeks faded as he clenched her soft body tight.

"Zelda…" he said under his breath, finally allowing himself to say her name. All his worry, his fear and anger, dissipated in her reassuring presence. With his entire body shaking, he could only bring her closer to his chest. The warm made his heart race, sending traces of fire up his spine. Her body sank into Link's muscles, almost becoming part of him. At last, they were together. When he listened closely, her heart was pounding with his. Within minutes, they were synchronized. Her breathing was muffled in his shirt, but he could manage out a few words in the common tongue.

"But I thought…I thought-"

Graced with her musical tone, Link stroked her face. Through her golden ringlets, her eyes were pooling with crystalline tears. His heart ached.

"No, no, no…" - his arms surrounded hers- "I'm still here…" Hesitating, he shifted, putting his back to the still-open door. The nameless, faceless guards were watching, eyes overbright like burning coals behind their masks.

"They...they told me you were ill?"

Link didn't dare to speak louder than a whisper. His brows narrowed in concern. A faint blush spread across her high cheekbones. It was by far the most beautiful thing he had seen in weeks. There was such joy behind her eyes!

"I-I..." she mumbled, eyelashes blinking softly on her cheek. The words came rushing out suddenly in a flood. "I wanted to tell you, but I didn't know until-"

"Shhhh," he kissed the words from her lips, smiling at her lack of restraint. "Tell me." He put his forehead on hers.

She anxiously glanced at the guards. Link was going to question her, but suddenly, she held his hand to her stomach, touching her dress.

His world exploded in happiness.

Zelda was smiling so wide, and his heart was singing. There were no words needed: she was carrying a baby! How had he not seen it before? Her weight hadn't increased, and although queasy, she had never been ill on the trek to the dungeons. He sighed in relief. "Goddesses..." he breathed, pulling her into a warm hug. She was smiling, hands pressing into his lower back. "I can't believe we ha-" He cut himself off, remembering the guards.

Automatically, she caught his mistake in Hylian. When he shrugged, chagrin and worry written on his face, her lips curved into a smile. She reverted to Ancient Hylian, the sound rough and wild from her sweet throat.

Link visibly sighed; his shoulders sagged in relief, and his breath came out in a huff. Smiling from under the grit and grime on his face, the man held her tightly again. "Wonderful," he breathed, letting her clench him. He hesitated before whispering, "I was…"

"There is no need to fear what will happen to me," she said, rather sharply, "I pass as a servant girl. The High Lord Ganondorf has bought my services. I am only-" She took a quick breath seeing her husband's odd gaze. Anger lit her features, nearly rivaling the pale-skinned, scarred man's expression.

"_It's nothing like that_," she hissed, eyes burning, "I clean _this_ room, and any adjoining rooms. I sleep in the servant's quarters, and _they keep our secret_." When his features softened, she took quick advantage. Her lips insistently pressed against his; her lithe fingers drifted across his loosely-clothed chest. When he refused to give in to her passion, she pulled away breathlessly with a broken glance, butting her head into his shoulder, letting her charade fall. He was immovable, even as her head sank vulnerably.

Quiet fell, deep and awkward in the guarded room. At the edge of her vision, the woman saw how the silent sentries shifted, eying the grand clock just outside the room. Sensing their time coming to a close, Zelda suddenly whispered, "Have you any plans?" A shiver raced through her spine, hoping for any sign of life from him.

After a moment, his arms encircled her, pressing her into his skin. His lips were cracked against the skin of her neck. Although he didn't say it, she smiled, sinking her head into his chest. Whispering, she kissed Link's cheek.

"I love you."

He fought back the urge to let the tears go. "Thank you. For telling me about..." His hand brushed her stomach one last time. "I will love you bo- in freedom."

The guards, after some hesitant debating, finally entered the study. The couple did not budge apart until the stately men were beside him, coughing loudly. Grasping Link's elbows, they hastily pulled him away from his wife. The cuffs clanked on the ground.

They pretended not to notice the deep sadness entering both of the savages' eyes. Zelda turned away to stare at the horizon once more.

_**XXX**_

Ganondorf waited until the guards left before he spoke to Link.

The creature had been shackled to the post again, slowly entering a relative peace. Seeing his wife had clearly made a profound impression on the man. Why had it taken so long for him to see his love?

"I am sorry," the High Prince found himself saying, "I never meant for you to be chained always. Only when Cero-" the savage jerked "-only when he brought you up here did I decide to move. It takes a solid push to make my feet walk."

He sighed. A hand ran through his red-gold hair. Why was he telling this to a savage? He didn't even like the man! If he could be innocent, Link waited, watching him curiously as he relaxed against the wooden post. His scars had mostly healed with the red potion that had been given to him. It was a hopeful sign.

"What would you have me do, Link?"

Like lightning, the man laughed in amazement. "What?" he barked.

"You are a citizen of our lands; on paper if not in your mind," Ganondorf felt the frown returning to his face, "I have long decided to be free of politics, to be a true warrior. Now, I fear my insecurity has wrought destruction."

"You see that now?" Link glowered.

Heat under his breast bone made Ganondorf's hands itch for a fight. "What do you know of the courts? I have been raised to be silent until my time came. Am I to contradict everything said within the hallowed halls of the Council?" His fist clenched. "You people in the north were always legends. I can't believe that the King made me journey there on a whim, to destroy you."

Link's teeth grit suddenly. "'The King'? Not 'father', not 'sire', not 'my liege lord'? You hate him, and you won't admit it."

"I'll admit it when he's six feet under." The High Prince turned to leave.

This was a passing opportunity. Link knew he needed to try, at least for Colin's sake. The boy truly had no idea who his master was –and Link suspected he feared the behemoth- and it was rude, seeing how much talent Ganondorf locked away inside.

"Be honest with Colin."

With his left foot half way up a stair, Ganondorf froze. He seemed to be debating as his feet shifted on the pebbles. His hand unclenched, and his back drooped. "I can't. Not now. It would tear him apart."

"He knows it's coming to war; he said so himself..."

"But does he know that I will agree to it? That Cero will have won?"

Link's teeth bared. "You would let my imbecile kin lead an invasion against a neighboring country for no reason? Dammit, you're supposed to be the High Prince! You undermine yourself when you do nothing!"

"I do not believe that," Ganondorf said sharply, "What do you, a slave, know? I've been to every meeting, listened to every side of the story, and what do I get? Nothing. No couriers bring news, no delegates ask for my help. I only have one vote, and if it is spent poorly, I will alienate more than half of the population. How can I rule if-"

He realized Link was no longer listening. Instead, he was muttering to ten under his breath while his eyes furiously glared at a bird singing atop the outer wall. He seemed so at ease for someone whose carefree life had just ended. And it was all because of his wife.

Setting his jaw, Ganondorf knew he had been on a tirade that would have lasted ages. His eyes glowered.

"Goodbye. I hope you enjoyed your afternoon."

He left.

_**XXX**_

Later that evening, Colin found Ralis in the armory. The Zoran page was polishing a rapier, thin hands smoothing away the rust. Almost in a trance, he was staring at the grain lines in the deep metal. When he heard footsteps in the door, he glanced up, then nodded sagely at his friend. Curiosity sparked in his eyes, but Ralis buried it hastily.

"How have you been, my friend?" he said, eyes narrowing with a smile, "I haven't seen you for nearly three days." The metal in his hands began to shine from his smooth, oily hands.

Colin could only laugh, and clasp his hand when he offered it. Ruefully, he rolled his eyes, grabbing a war bridle that had a faint layer of dust upon the crown. He shrugged.

"I've been training."

"Constantly?" Ralis' lip twitched.

"...I've been training _hard_." Knowing how ridiculous it sounded, the High Prince's page simply frowned. His fingers rubbed the leather in his hands, knuckles scraping against them. Somehow, Ralis understood the meaning behind it, and returned to scrubbing the metal.

"I have exciting news for you," the politican's apprentice said, "Darunia and I have also left behind the dorm. The Holy Knight set up a smaller room -my Goron friend said it was a closet- in his quarters. Today they were declared abroad on a border dispute. This is the third time in four weeks they have left..." The pale boy continued to shine the hilt, holding it up to the sun.

Colin grinned. "I like my room. It's a good size for a boy who never lives there."

"Well said. I also live in the Ambassadors' Wing with my master. If you wish to visit me, simply speak with the secretary on the lower level. Ruto is a nice girl from Zora's Domain. Her voice is like a sparkling river."

"Sounds like you have a crush on her."

Ralis's face suddenly turned a deep shade of red. "No," he replied testily.

Colin laughed, chuckling as his friend pointedly ignored him. They continued to clean the armor and tack, while Ralis picked up a knife and began to sharpen it. Nobody entered the stables for some time.

When the silence became overwhelming, the Zoran met Colin's eyes. "My friend Colin, I must warn you of the Dark Knight Cero..." There was no laughter.

A shiver crept up the other boy's neck. He tried not to think of Talo, or how the last time his ex-friend had been ready to fight him for the sake of a corrupt government noble. Cero had been standing there with him, eyes like burning coals.

"He does not..." Ralis struggled for words here, "...he does not have any sense of 'patriotism' in our fine Hyrule. In the Council, he openly takes on your master, the High Prince, in matters of state and war. He _insists_ that for the people, the King must acquire new lands before next winter. Only a selected few struggle to keep this from becoming a permanent solution. The King will be swayed by Cero's judgment. In all honesty, I think he has already on account that there is no leader for the opposition. I know that the High Prince loathes to join in the Council discussions, but at the head of a solid defense, he might be able to stop this war. My master approves of his indifference, but-"

Colin nodded, relieved that he was not alone in his feelings. "I know. Sometimes, I just think he doesn't want..." he trailed off, hands wishing in the air. "He doesn't want to let everybody down by siding against such a popular vote..."

In the dark corner of the armory, Ralis stopped his long-winded rant, looking ashamed, although he had no reason to be. Seeing such a look on his friend's face, Colin clasped his hand again and simply said, "I'll talk to him about it. I can't promise you anything, but I have to say, the winds of war have begun to blow."

Pursing his lips, Ralis gave a curt nod, then sighed. "It seems long past since we rode in the northern fields, discussing this very subject." His nails scratched a dab of oil away from the crease of the hilt, and he continued, "Darunia is turning into his master. He's truly gained muscle since the last time we spoke."

Colin laughed, placing the bridle back on a peg. His hands absentmindedly grabbed a bundle of reins, and began to unwind them, evening out the knots. "I wish we'd all get back together, you know," Colin said, "I miss wandering around the sewers, listening in on nobles' squabbles..."

"It's been three days."

"Yeah, but not since we ran through the alley with torches...I miss being free."

"Mmmm...Teasing the maids in the scullery?"

"Or placing butter on the floors of the nobles' wing?"

"Of course! How could I forget? Master Igor was so upset when his favorite woman fell flat upon her face."

Colin grinned. "Vaati would be proud of you. 'You are such an eloquent speaker, Prince Ralis!'" Laughing, he felt his muscles twitching. "Vaati still hates me, I think. I passed him in the halls on the way here, and he looked like he would have strangled me. All I did was botch my introduction to the High Prince, his liege lord..."

Ralis's eyes narrowed slightly, showing his appreciation. "My mother did something of the sort when I sent a letter to Duke Mikau as a child. She did not believe that, 'My hopes and dreams to Mister Mikau.' If I had been any older, she would have sent me to the refuse ponds for a day."

"Geez! It's a little harsh isn't it?"

The Zoran boy laughed, "My mother is a Queen, but she's not mud in the pond. She's willing to make me into a ruling leader by using any methods neccessary." He saw Colin's confused face. "She loves me, and wants a normal life. When I use my priviledges, her mood takes a turn for the worst."

Uli.

Colin's heart clenched. His missed his mother. Wouldn't she have given birth soon? He would have a little baby to look after, if he had remained in the quiet little village. He would have no idea what was going on, that war was coming.

"Thank you, my friend Colin. I can only hope your master has as good of resolve as you." With a quick smile, he stood, and walked from the room.

Colin was left with nothing but an empty room and a hardened heart.

_0_

_0_


	17. Brother in Arms

_**A/N: I hope you (as in my beloved fanfiction readers) don't burn me at the stake. I've been having some problems- both mentally and physically- and I really don't have a muse to write at the present.**_

_**Sorry the snippet about Ganondorf is so short, but really, I can't spoil all the secrets yet.**_

**Reviewers: xIchixCoolxGirlx, Blackend Rose, Avaron in Ama, destiny's charm, Principessa Dell'Opera, surfergirl13537, Vopi, la generala, TheFinalCountdown, Eclipse Storywriter, **

* * *

**_XXX_**

Brothers in Arms

**_XXX_**

The rope around Link's ankles looked rougher if anything.

Colin felt a twinge of guilt. Although the metal from the shackles had rubbed his friend's skin raw so many times that it had turned into a permanent scar, the rope was a reminder that he was still a captive. The better part was that he had more mobility.

It had been a relief to see his master without the chains. For the past couple of days, he had been quieter than usual, and peaceful. His meditation was deeper, as if there was a sanctuary that couldn't be breached. Colin didn't know what could have caused that, but it was a welcome change to the broody teacher he had known before.

"Are we going to train today?"

Link sat next to him. Together, they looked over the walls to the green mountains. The trees were full of life and water, shining against the skyline. It was so nice to be outside with a small storm moving in. The heat had sweltered the day before.

"Mentally."

Colin started.

"What?"

"A man kills his best friend. What do you think he should do: turn himself in, or vanish altogether?"

"What kind of question is that?" the confusion in Colin's voice was apparent. But, if Link wanted to test him, he might as well go along with it. "...I think he should turn himself in."

"Why?"

"...! Because! He's just killed a man. The criminal courts would find him guilty."

"Then he shouldn't vanish because...?"

"Link, why are you asking this? Am I being tested for some kind of...I don't know, experiment? Do I have to turn myself in?"

The man opposite him laughed. "No, no, no. Just answer the question."

"Welllll...he has an obligation. He's killed a man, and he should feel guilty because he took a life. If he vanished, he might spend his whole life running from the authorities, or living a lie. His family would be ashamed."

"Ah, but what if that's how he had been raised? That killing was the normal attitude, and what if the way to show you respected someone was to take their life?"

Colin's face fell suddenly.

"That would be terrible. You'd never get to see them, or talk to them ever again! There would be nobody in the world left! What kind of place are you talking about?"

"Let''s move on; that is an upsetting thought. What if the same man was betrayed his best friend?"

Colin frowned. "That's different. Now it's his friend's fault."

"Why?"

"HONESTLY?"

"Just answer the question."

"WELL...I think his friend is in the wrong, because if you don't have loyalty, or friendship, what else is left?"

"'Truth is known to the innocent,'" Link's smile was sad, "What if the reason the man killed his best friend was because he had betrayed him? What if he had killed the man's wife or children, or given up the location of his caring, but illegal business for orphans to the authorities? What if he had destroyed his life?"

Colin looked thoroughly confused.

The sun seemed so distant after the disturbing thoughts Link kept supplying him with. What use would he ever have with this thought-process of death? He hadn't ever thought about killing: the bad guys were the people stealing Hyrule's land. Conceptually, this was the perfect scenario, but Link kept giving him wrong information, or leading him astray.

"I don't understand," Colin muttered, reflecting his thoughts.

Link looked slightly downcast. He shook his head.

"It's all about morals and values."

"Oh yeah. One of my political lifestyle teachers told me about it. She said that Hyrule is known for its bravery and religion."

It was awkward to say that to Link. He didn't come from inside: he was from the north, in a passageway between Twilight and Hyrule. Suddenly, the bare-chested, quiet man seemed alien. His sharp, pointed ears weren't curved into a C, and his bright blue eyes seemed to glow with something completely different from a Hylian's eyes would. He had lived everywhere, been outside. What did he truly know about Hyrule?

Link must have known that Colin was doubting him; he said quietly, "Colin. You must understand. We are all connected. We all have hopes and fears. All the boys across the world want to be heroes." He looked serene, as if he'd accepted injustice before. "How do you see yourself?" the savage continued, "Are you well-liked by your friends? Do you like meeting people? Is education important to you? Do you need rupees to be popular?"

Colin laughed aloud. "That sounds like it is straight from the psychology tests I took."

"Well, to be at peace, you must use your mind to search your inner spirit," a wry smile came out, "I learned to read from a book brought from this place. It was a collection of theories and circumstantial evidence of the Hylian mind."

"How can they know what's going on in your mind?"

"'T-H-E-O-R-I-E-S. It's not a proven fact. But...you didn't answer my question."

The guilt the boy felt was surreal. It was frustrating not to know what to say. Colin didn't want to fail the lesson Link was trying to teach. He decided he had better be honest. He couldn't play along anymore. His shoulders rose and fall, while his eyebrows narrowed. "Why do I have to know this? What will I get from talking about guys that kill their best friends and the people of Twilight?"

Link's gaze was harsh. Turning away, his hands clenched against the ropes around his ankles. He might have muttered something about honesty but Colin couldn't hear clearly until the man sat up straight.

"Have you ever wondered what kind of people are living in the Kingdom of Twilight?"

Colin nodded. "All the time."

He didn't want to say what he thought: those people were killers intent on stealing all of the land bordering Hyrule, taking all of their trade rights, and if the war would stop the anger between the countries. In Ordon Village, there had always been stories of the unearthly tall, black-skinned women and men of Twilight, bewitchers and harborers of magic. It had stayed with him throughout everything. Were they monsters? They probably sacrificed goats.

Link stared at him for a moment, before saying clearly, "Colin, I know you are young. I know you have pride in this land Hyrule. But have you considered that there could be another boy, your same age, a page under a high ranking lord, thinking the same things about you?"

_That_ bothered him. His first thought was, _Absolutely not! That boy is excited to kill. He is a bloodthirsty kid intent on destroying Hyrule._

Then he understood.

Link must have seen the guilt on his face, because he looked back toward the group with a faint smile on his face. "Colin," he said shortly, "It's natural."

"But I get it now," he swallowed his pride. "You're saying I'm..." He scratched his head trying to remember the exact word. "Afraid of people?"

Link bit his lip. "Not afraid of people. _Prejudiced_ against people. They go hand in hand."

"I assume everyone in Twilight is a monster." Colin frowned against his choice of words. "And most of the time they're just like me?"

"In such short words, yes. But think about an outsider going into your village. Would they assume that your family and friends are not intelligent because of the way you talk? Would they assume you know nothing of the outside world?"

"So...it's not just me." Colin stated it as a fact.

"Everybody is prejudiced. It depends on whether it is against people, places, items, or weapons," Link said with a sigh, "Would you like to go out to the desert prison?"

"No!"

"Why?"

"Because there are ghosts. There are things there that are evil. Bones walk!"

"Have you been there?" Link's smile was small.

"Why would I go? You asked me if I wanted to go-"

The warrior stretched his shoulders, scars turning into fine white lines on his back. "I know. If you haven't been there, how do you know that there are living bones?" His eyes danced. "I've been there. All that's left from the legends is a decaying temple in the sand and a few Gerudo outposts."

Colin felt stupid again. The flush of embarrassment hit his cheeks.

"I see. I have all these prejudices against things people have said around me. I think there are living bones because in Ordon Village, we had fires at night and told stories about the spirits in the desert."

"Yes. That's what starts it. You hear a story, or gossip. If your parents had strong emotions toward a certain subject, the chances that you will have the same attitude amplified in you the younger you are," he continued, "Sometimes it's not bad. Are you prejudiced towards killing a man?"

A connection was made. "That's what you meant by the man killing his best friend." _Talo._ "No. I don't want to kill anybody."

"Some prejudices can help a person find connections with others. Fortunately, the people of Twilight are not murdering machines. In fact, I am sure they never wanted to start the war. They are artistic, peaceful..." Link trailed off.

Colin was suddenly curious. "You've met some of them before?"

A ghost of a smile hit Link's handsome face. "Yes. I've met with their Queen, Midna."

"You've met a Queen?"

Suddenly, Link realized what he'd said. His face hardened. For a moment, he refused to speak; his lips creased together uneasily. Colin felt like he had just taken a look down a hole with a dark secret. A simple barbarian wouldn't have met a Queen. Colin's heart began pounding. Who was Link? Really? What was behind him?

"Well. Can you think of other values?"

The boy knew he wasn't going to get information out of his friend. "Education?" he asked, "In the village, my mother always made me read. She said it was so people wouldn't take advantage of me. Here in the city, if you can't read there are jobs where you don't have to read like street sweepers and laborers. Even the sailors in the south don't have to read."

"There's one of course. Family, loyalty, power, love...things rank differently to other people."

"Being raised differently..." Colin was afraid to ask about Link's brother. After all, he and Talo had been raised as brothers, disagreeing on little. How had Cero changed Talo only after a few months?

He took a breath.

"Link?"

"Yea?"

"You remember when Ganondorf and I and...Cero and his page were all in the courtyard? How we argued and Ganondorf showed his proof of slavery? His page, Talo...he was my best friend."

That caught Link's attention. He stiffened.

Colin felt afraid. How could he ask Link if Cero was poisoning Talo's mind? It was awkward for him to think about it in his own mind. But he had to know.

"I don't know about Cero. I know he's conniving. Is that a prejudice against him?"

Link's eyes closed. "No. That's the truth."

"So will he completely brainwash Talo? Will he make him want to kill? Talo wasn't fond of it before, but every boy in the village didn't mind slaughtering chickens or pigs." The words were coming out cold and mean, but Colin couldn't stop. "If I come up against him alone, will he kill me? Will he forsake every lesson we've learned together and kill me?"

Colin was shaking from the fury. A few moments later, fear and depression filled his mind. He hadn't ever spoken about Talo this honestly. All of his memories had been about the pastures, swimming, slacking at chores, and sunny skies. Talo was indeed a dark fear.

"Was he raised to kill?"

Link's voice shocked him.

"No. But I don't think he'd have problems adjusting." Colin wasn't going to take it lightly.

"I won't lie. Cero has a way of tormenting people and finding how to exploit their dark desires. Unless your friend is a weak-minded fool who loves blood..." LInk rubbed his temples. "I don't want to give you false hope."

The silence was depressing. Even though the sun was shining, Colin felt a headache. It wasn't from dehydration. He hadn't planned on having all of the memories of he and Talo resurface so quickly.

He didn't want to die. And he didn't want to kill Talo either.

But if their masters were fighting in a war, it was inevitable that the two feuding men would come up in combat against each other. It was inevitable that the two pages would fight. If Talo was really brainwashed, there was no doubt that he would try to kill Colin.

"What about Ganondorf?"

How could he answer a question like that? Did Link want a sudden response to him? Did he want him to divulge information about his master?

"What about him?" Colin hadn't meant for his tone to be so anxious- no, angry- but when Link stiffened, he didn't feel bad about it.

"Do you trust him? Would you follow him into battle?"

"Of course! Why shouldn't I trust him?" Colin felt his temper flaring. "He's my master. He doesn't like to fight; he doesn't need to prove himself!"

Link's face suddenly went sour, and he said, "Are you afraid of him?"

"I'm not afraid!" Colin barked, feeling his forehead narrow.

"Whenever he comes to watch you practice, you're…different. You look polite, but when he speaks to you, it's like you're afraid he's going to chop your head off. You seem to be afraid. I want to know why."

It exploded in Colin's chest. "What do you know of my life? What do you know about having the High Prince as your mentor!"

"I'm not degrading him, I'm just-"

"No, I'm not afraid, not at all!"

There was a dark look in Link's eye. He was frowning. "I think you are lying."

"No!" Colin tried to bury the anger, but it wouldn't go. He felt a quiver of anxiousness go through him. He tried not to think about the way the quiet man made him feel too small, gave him too much room.

Link's hand gripped his shoulder. "You beg for his approval. Yes, he is the High Prince, but he is a man. I think you see that. You know he has not been raised like you. Are you afraid of his difference?"

"No," Colin said, pulling away.

"Of his strength? Are you afraid he is going to hurt you?"

"No…"

"Then why do you fear the High Prince?"

"I…!" Colin hissed, "I don't know."

"This is important," Link rushed, "I know you respect him, but you have too much respect. He is a man. Fear is not a way to walk in the shado-"

The words blurted out before Colin could stop them. "I wonder why he chose me, okay? He says it's not to take me into war. Why choose me, a bumpkin from Ordon Village? _What can I do for him?_"

In the frying sun, Link's face shot right through him. Colin felt like bowing his head.

"You are afraid of failing him."

"Yes," Colin said miserably, in embarrassment. Suddenly, talking to Link seemed like a very bad idea. What did he really know of this man anyway? Sure, the guy had been teaching him to become a warrior, to hone his mind, but…how did he live his life? Was he one of the people who had killed his best friend?

A small sigh came from his left. Colin watched Link run a hand through his hair. It didn't make him feel any better. Now that the page had said his 'fear', it felt like it had consumed his life.

"I'm sorry," Link refused to apologize, "I am just trying to make you see Ganondorf in a different light. He needs to assert himself..."

"And you think this war is the best way to '_assert himself_'?" The strain of the day caught up to Colin. He began to seethe. "Ganondorf has been my mentor and my friend since he chose me. He is the one who started to train me!"

"What about the Council meetings? There are those who wish for him to speak his mind; why won't you ask him to? Yes, it's true he is your friend! You are high on his list-"

"I don't care! I respect him!"

"But those who will follow him one day don't know about the true man, who detests blood and who holds the kingdom together! _They don't know_! If he speaks up in the Council, if he votes on simply one controversial issue-"

Colin's glare silenced Link. "I wouldn't expect _you_ to understand." He began to walk away.

"Colin."

His head was getting dizzy. Why was he yelling at Link? The man had been...was his friend. He was the one who had trained him, who asked him to think outside of his boundaries. Did that mean nothing?

"Colin. I did not mean to disrespect your master."

The boy couldn't do it. Not tonight. He needed time to think.

"I-I just need time to think. Thanks for speaking with me today," Colin was shocked at how easily he slipped back into the palace dialogue. Within seconds, he was within the walls. He was sweating in the cool air.

What had gotten into him?

_**XXX**_

Link couldn't believe what was happening in front of his eyes.

Over the past three days, events had spiraled so quickly it was hard to focus on the points when things had changed. One of his concerns had been Colin, the next the war, and finally, his wife and unborn child.

At first, it had been refreshing to listen to the boy's ideas, and to see him working through his prejudices and ways of thinking. Yet when he asked about Talo, things had taken a dark spin. Is that how Colin felt? That he must fight and kill his friend?

A boy shouldn't be thinking that.

What kind of world did he live in, to raise a child to believe that if you had a falling out with a politician's page who was your once best friend, you must kill him?

It made Link so furious. The war was destroying all the ideals and virtue that Hyrule had once held dear. Ever since the true Royal Family had vanished, the line of Ganons changed what had once been acceptable. Instead of charity giving and soup kitchens, the population ate old horse meat or starved. Orphans couldn't be taken in, only apprenticed and worked 'for the better of the community'. It was turning into tyranny, but it had happened so slowly -almost over eleven generations- no one would question it.

He lived in the north passage to Twilight, the only pass not under military surveillance. He was a peace keeper. He was supposed to be stronger than any army. He was supposed to stop war.

Cero had been an underhanded-

No. He needed to think about the better things.

Yesterday, he had seen his wife. Even in the sunlight, she had glowed like a star. Her white smile reminded him of the hopes of his future. If he could have laid down beside her even for a few minutes, maybe he could have felt the baby.

He was going to be a father!

In his heart, it was enough to make him crow. A leap down the waterfall in Zora's Domain wouldn't have met the excitement of his firstborn. He had to be with her when she gave birth. He had to see his child.

That brought him back to his current predicament. Four and a half months had passed. Zelda had no reason to give birth to a beautiful child in a closet in the scullery; she needed to be in their home, surrounded by forests, away from all of the madness.

Which meant he needed to find an escape.

The problem was that he had grown too close to Colin. The implications of spending so much time with the boy was if Link made an escape, the boy would be whipped and punished. Colin didn't deserve it, especially not with the way he had been feeling.

Did Ganondorf know that the boy was slowing being consumed by worry?

He probably didn't have enough time to even talk to his page.

**_XXX_**

_The Twelfth Day_

_of the Third Month of Summer_

_Sixty-Third Year_

_of His Majesty King Ganon IV's Reign_

_Colin of Ordon Village, page and assistant to the High Prince and Heir to the Throne Ganondorf of Hyrule has proven..._

The pain in his temple was overwhelming. A broad hand went to his forehead, massaging the sore spot. The pressure didn't help. Ganondorf shifted his shoulders, leaning back in his chair. Gazing out over the mountains, his golden eyes twitched.

He sighed and leaned back over the parchment.

_The Twelfth Day_

_of the Third Month of the Summer_

_Sixty-Third Year_

_of His Majesty King Ganon IV's Reign_

_The page and assistant Colin of Ordon Village has proven his worth to the High Prince and Heir to the Throne Ganondorf of Hyrule in all areas, showing audacity..._

What am I doing?

These letters were just saying the same thing over and over: that Colin had grown considerably, that Colin's training had paid off, and that he was ready to become a Squire. But it sounded so formal, so condescending! The young man -not even a boy anymore- deserved more respect from the man he called master.

Damn that Link, for making him feel guilty about his own page…

Ganondorf was having a hard time accepting the ideals of Knighthood...but it had always been that way. A Knight was supposed to break his own philosophy and strengths upon a child; the official code clearly stated in clause fourteen: 'any training possible to impress the knowledge and determination of the lower class and/or students of the trade is required and acceptable.' Had the Hylian society really fallen to the level of brainwashing?

The High Prince's thirty-second birthday came in the fall; he had been seventeen when first approached by the Page Master. By this time, any lower class Knight could ask for the opportunity of raising a page in his honor.

Ganondorf had dismissed that time in his life to 'nerves'. How could he even attempt to train a boy when he didn't know how to talk to a dignitary his own age? Eventually, the rumors had faded of his reasons, and it became a commonly known fact that the High Prince simply did not take pages.

One year had faded into another, and for fifteen years, he had politely declined training any of the boys hustled into the north. He had watched them carefully, commenting on certain techniques that only he as royalty knew. The King had never showed his displeasure. It had been a peaceful state of limbo, until Cero had appeared.

"I can't do this," he said.

A huge sigh escaped his lips. Pain shot up his legs at the gap in his concentration. It was time to stretch.

_0_

_0_


	18. Hope

**_A/N: This is a settling chapter. And I am incredibly sorry about the lack of recent updates. My life is slightly working on other projects than this, no matter how much I wish I could sit down and just finish the damn thing. Thanks for all your support and love. Drop me a review if you have the time._**

**_Reviewers: Morbidly Bored, CattyGothLoli, Principessa Dell'Opera, Firelight Dragon, TheFinalCountdown, Beforethedawnbreaks, Vopi, ThE AnCiEnT DeRuViSh, Poncey of the Lions, Eclipse Storywriter, and la generala. I LOVE YOU ALL FOR YOUR SUPPORT._**

**_Warnings: Conspiracy. Treason._**

* * *

**_XXX_**

_Hope_

**_XXX_**

She was so beautiful.

The overcast clouds made her hair like silk; her blue eyes were wide and calm. A tender smile was on her lips. A white flower was being twisted in her fingers. Her billowy dress and cloak made her stomach appear thin and smooth, when in fact a rather large bump had grown.

Link was content to hold her hand.

They were situated by a garden pool, with three guards on two exits each. Through the myriad flowers brimming with unearthly colors, one was watching the couple from behind a rose bush, hand permanently residing on the sword's pommel. His eyes were hidden by a wide metal helmet. Two paced side by side at the cobblestone wall, armor too shiny for the bright day and when the closer turned, he stared at Zelda for uncomfortable minutes. The latter, moving along the north wall in his fine leather boots, made it a point to be strategically in Link's blind spot. Just in case.

Although irritated, Link swallowed all of it for Zelda's sake. He had a half hour with her, or at least until the fifth hour rang. Despite being unchained the guards were watching his every move like hawks intent on a killing.

Since summer had come early and stayed late, the weather was gorgeous. Like the winter before, it seemed to stretch on forever, like a infinite amount of time. He pretended he was home in the pastures of green and the sharp edged mountains. It was peaceful with his pregnant wife sitting next by his side.

"How have you been doing in the heat?" she asked, leaning on him, "I've not been pushed very hard indoors. It always looks hot outside." Her eyes closed, waiting for him to speak. "You know I worry about you."

He laughed at her concern. "It's hot. I've raised fences in worse."

"Do they give you enough water?"

"Of course, woman!" he nuzzled her temple, smiling. "The only thing I have to worry about is the kid beating me up."

The bruise on his arm -gained that morning from Colin's well aimed lead staff- seemed pronounced after he said it. She touched it softly. "Tell me about him..." she ordered, yawning and pulling the cloak around her shoulders more.

Link nodded. There were so many things to say about his student. "He's a good boy. From the south actually, in Ordon Village." He gave her meaningful glance. "You should have seen him on the axes; he was a professional. And he still can fight with his body. He was in perfect shape to continue on to sword, and even then, some moves he has reminds me of a staff wielder..."

He missed Zelda's shining eyes as he continued on, "-But you know, I'm worried about him. Ganondorf doesn't spend much time with him. There's not any...connection between the two. It's strictly master and apprentice, and that's no way to build trust. He asks me all about people and how they interact and what it means. I feel like he is..."

His eyes caught sight of her out of the corner of his eyes.

She was suppresing a smile. Eyes twinkling like stars, she was more alive and brilliant than even the flowers. The pronounced red blush in her cheeks made his heart begin to pound.

"You really are going to be a good father."

Link abruptly looked at her.

"Can you hear how you're talking about him?" she began intertwining her fingers with his. "You care about his training, his studies, the influences on his life...and you think he's doing too little!"

A flush nearly spread across Link's face as he sputtered. He hadn't thought about Colin from a father's point of view before. It was slightly unnerving yet...nice. Zelda snuggled comfortably his arm, soothing his surprise. He smiled against her hair. A clink of armor told of a shifting guard, eyeing their displays of affection uncomfortably. A cloud had passed overhead causing a cool breeze in the garden, and the cloak covering his wife seemed perfect.

It was comfortable to be beneath trees with red and orange leaves. A fake fire, but pretty to look at, was what Zelda had explained when the two sat on the slope. Only a few days ago, it had been a sickly green-yellow.

"Do you want...a boy?" Zelda suddenly asked.

The question made him laugh at her nervous expression. He kissed her forehead, remembering to keep his hands from her stomach, no matter how he longed to touch it and listen for any signs of the baby. The guard was killing all his fun and banter.

"It wouldn't matter to me," he hesitated, before murmuring, "If it is a girl, she would be my leading lady-"

"Hey." Zelda poked his ribs. "What about me?"

"-or is the real reason you ask is because you_ want_ a boy?"

His wife's mouth twitched for a moment, then her eyes softened. In the orbs, dreams swam. "Imagine me, gardening and cooking while my boys went to the river and fished...and you could teach him and the other boys in the village..."

Link nodded, but said sharper than he meant, "There is no more village."

"It would still be nice..." she trailed off, throat constricting. Her eyes lowered, fingers absentmindedly stroking her stomach. It was a smooth, loving motion. Watching, Link felt the urge to tuck them away from their secret, lest the guard saw. His heart pounded.

"Stop it, Zelda," he whispered, staring at the gnarled bark on the tree. He groaned, knowing how she wouldn't rebuke his temper. It was awkward. One quick look, and he felt guilty.

She had stopped, instead patting and fluffing the grass, manipulating it in the same way. Although seemingly calm, her regal mouth was set and worried; he'd only seen her like that a few times in her life at his side. He knew what she thought. _Upset, upset, upset_, she almost whispered toward his ears.

"Are you just afraid?" she asked, "That I won't get out of here?"

His heart hammered in his stomach. "I _will_ get you out of here."

Zelda's face twisted. "What if you can't?" When he looked away in anger, she grabbed his wrist and rubbed it softly.

Link spared one glance of frustration toward her. There were a million things he could say or explain to her, but she wouldn't make the situation change. He needed to save her from all of the terrifying things out there. Be damned if she was an able warrior. Her protection with the baby came first, above even his life.

She seemed to see his resistance to tell her anything. Instead, she said coldly, "We have survived more hatred than this. It will not be difficult to do so again. Remember that."

A wince of guilt shot his mind, strengthening his determination. "Zelda," he returned quietly, "If there is an opportunity-"

"I won't run!" Her incredulous look could have melted rock, "I can't leave you. My child will be raised with its father."

Link ran a hand through his hair, glancing toward the guards in the corner. The frightened, uncomfortable man had turned away as a fellow had passed by; the two were chattering like birds. His hand ghosted his wife's stomach before he said very sharply, "I want my child to live in peace." His eyes were piercing hers. "With or without me."

He had spoken to her like this only once: as the wagons and men of the King scaled the incline toward the stalwart village. Fires had burnt the trees into mere broken logs, and in the shadows, Link had held her shoulders, fingers gripping her tender skin. Very quietly, he had told her to run and seek sanctuary in Twilight. Like the thick-headed, stubborn woman he'd come to love, she had refused.

The bitterness didn't escape him. If she had gone, he wouldn't know about his child, and she would be having it without him.

"I hate to say it. You know I do. I would give anything to see us living back in the village, raising a baby...but I can't. I can't think that far ahead and dream. I must get us out of this situation first. I must make an escape now, in the present. Do you understand?" Link tightened his grip as the bell suddenly rang out five times. The vibrations hurt his ears.

Zelda nodded with a jaw of steel as the guard's hand enclosed her arm, pulling her forcibly apart. Her limbs began to resist, but her eyes softened when Link hastily brushed her fingertips. She calmed.

Ancient Hylian fell from his lips in a string of loving words. She smiled, and kissed the air. Under the cooling weather, she crossed her arms across her chest, walking swiftly and tall. Link frowned; if the baby was born here, the guards would separate it from Zelda. And she would be inconsolable. So would he.

"Let's go," the guard muttered, teeth gritting. Obviously, he didn't like to be here. No matter. Link rose, holding up his hands. A rope was quickly knotted over his wrists, and he was led away, toward the courtyard.

But at least he'd seen his wife.

**_XXX_**

There was a squeal from under his feet.

Colin's heart almost gave out in fright. Without thinking, his foot jutted out. He watched the starlit cat dart into a hole in a wrought iron fence. Behind the fence, the creature turned to stare at him, green eyes haunting against the abandoned house.

_Damn cat_, he thought viciously.

He was supposed to be meeting Darunia and Ralis on the southern courtyard, almost on the outskirts of town. It had been a while since he'd seen either of them, especially with his training sucking up all of his energy and willpower. About two days ago a fellow page had casually told Colin the news of his friends: wartime battles and skirmishes and banquets in their masters' honor. Although Colin had been excited to hear of their accomplishments, his own were shameful. He just practiced with a slave in a courtyard.

Guilt paraded in his chest at the sudden thought. Link was an exceptional warrior.

This meeting would hopefully allow them to speak without fear of being heard, or seen 'consorting with'. In the last two days, Colin had been ignored or purposely avoided, and the only explanation he could think of was Ganondorf and the last Council meet of the fall session. He had noticed the tension at the page hall. Why else would everybody's eyes glaze when they saw him? Only the guards remained the same!

The archway to the south rose up above him, blocking out the moon for one spare moment; Colin hesitated. There were two shadows in the left pasture, sidled up to the edge of the hill. Drawing his cloak further around his face, Colin took a deep breath and jogged toward them, raising a hand in greeting. The stone steps made his boots sound like muffled hammer strikes before he made it to the springy weeds.

Ralis was wearing a smartly tailored green suit, strangely off-colored against his light skin. It gathered at his hip, and the half of the tan cape was thrown across his left shoulder. The formal tunics of Zora's Domain with blues –light sky and navy- fit him much better. Darunia was wearing a light suit of chain mail -also covered under a tan cloak- eyes beady under a thick hat. A hammer was strapped to his hip, large and cumbersome. Both held out their hands, welcoming him.

"Glad you are here, brother," Darunia rumbled. His voice had deepened considerably.

Colin bowed, feelng awkward. "Hello, my friends. How goes the efforts?"

There was a flicker between the Zora and Goron. Ralis shook his head while Darunia held out his hand, showing a long white scar ribbing his flesh. "Not so good, goro. Master Darmani and I have been stretched too thin. The raids that the Dark Knight sends us on are all fibs. Twilight raids have stopped, but the damage continues."

A shiver went down Colin's back.

Unconcerned, Ralis began, "The Council meetings are being slowed by calls for violence and war. Cero seems to be gaining more supporters outside his few, including several of the prominent rich families in the city, most likely to fund the war effort. Duke Mikau has been speaking and creating sub committees devoted to the study of economics and morality in this war. Not many of the citizens listen."

"Master Darmani has attended a few of these. He sees the same things."

There were flashes of anger in the boys' faces. Colin realized that his face had stayed impassive…just like Ganondorf's. With a start, he bit his lip, sighing. "I have noticed nothing. I never attend any meetings. I am training, but that's all I have been doing for all summer. Ganondorf says nothing." Colin's fist clenched.

Ralis shrugged. "His duty is different than our masters."

"No," Colin said, raising his eyebrows, "He is the reason your masters must do what they do. He never speaks, even to his father. He has no will for this country."

Silence.

It hurt like acid in Colin's chest. His friends knew exactly what he meant: Ganondorf was quiet. In the times of war, politicians –especially the Prince!- could not be silent, could not afford to give up, could not afford to alienate his own people. If the King was killed, could Ganondorf even rule? Was he simply waiting to take over, or would he pass it to Cero? These questions were not going to be blown aside lightly.

"There is a meeting in only two days. I think you should be there."

"Even if he won't let me go?" Colin couldn't hide the bitterness, caused by the thoughts that had been in his mind for weeks, "Even if he restricts me from it?"

Ralis frowned, hand twitching. "Yes. You need to know your true master."

"Ganondorf is my true master, whether I like it or not-"

"I mean who your master truly really is, not the man who sits in his tower away from the world. Can you do nothing while the country falters under such tyranny as the King?" Ralis was quiet, saying, "You can trust in those who want a non-violent change. Just convince him to take you, and speak to my master."

_How?_ Colin felt his loyalty stretching. Could hope be really found, if Ganondorf would listen to reason? If he could escape the manipulation of his father? The loyalty stretched a little more.

"Well, I will see you there. As Ganondorf's page."

Feeling mystified by his sense of change, Colin nodded in farewell. He was well aware of how dismissively he had just acted, and it made him want to cringe. But he didn't. He was better mannered than that. He was responsible. Both Ralis and Darunia had hesitated and the boy felt their eyes following him up the steps to the dark archway. His footsteps were all that was left on the cold hard ground.

**_XXX_**

The place called "Telma's Bar" was deserted...almost.

It should be, since the hour was probably close to three in the morning. As Ganondorf walked in, he took care to notice the stacks of wine and champagne settled delicately along the stone wall; meat, peppers, and apples met his eyes on wooden risers behind the bar. A handful of men were seated at the raised counter, murmuring quietly. From the look of it, the two on the right were merchants from their colorful breeches. The one on the right was a hollow-eyed farmer smoking a pipe.

Ganondorf was glad that he had opted for washed out clothing, and no weapons. He'd worn a hood to cover his scarlet hair, but his unmistakable olive-toned face and golden eyes would draw attention wherever he went. He had slipped through the escape passage about an hour ago after the guards had changed shifts.

The woman at the bar was cleaning glasses. Her enormous breasts were squeezed into a tiny jacket, while the rings connected in her dark hair gleamed in the firelight. She seemed like a brazen, yet no-nonsense woman. Her face was broad and plump like an overripe peach.

Her sharp eyes narrowed when she saw him.

"Bar's closed, boys," she said, deftly swiping the half-full beers from the men. Ganondorf halted. The three gaped. The merchant in a green shirt snorted. "T-T-Telma..." he whined, "We've...uh, never, uuuhhhhh..."

"We didn't finish our drinks!" the other exploded, grin wide and uncaring.

The woman -Telma- set her elbow on the smooth wood. "Really? I've supplied you with four this evening already." Her eyebrow raised, and suddenly the three of the men shrugged on their coats and slithered off the stools, managing to get into their jackets. The farmer was slightly more sober, but the hollow look never left his face. It a few instants, the door had slammed shut upon their exit.

It was an awkward silence.

"Your Majesty," Telma said, half-bowing her head and pressing her lips together. The woman was clearly treading on the verges of impoliteness. Her eyes were sharp and unconvinced in his legitimate affairs.

He let out a long sigh. "Is it possible to acquire a drink?"

Telma's lip twitched. "Huh." Her left hand grabbed a clean wooden cup, like all the others in the cupboard. There seemed to be an equality in her actions that made a huge statement with so little words. Ganondorf decided he respected this woman.

Clearing her throat, she asked, "Why are you here, really?"

Blunt. A stupid question. She knew exactly why he was here. Could she perhaps be the gatekeeper?

"I arrived a pauper, and now I am a prince," he intoned, hastily making the sign Duke Mikau of Zora's Domain had shown him in a few seconds. He wasn't not nervous, but the signal had been taught in a corner, with a card pressed into his hands describing the meeting place. It had been hasty warning. A matronly, skeptical woman was not what he had expected as the gatekeeper.

Lights seemed to click on in Telma's eyes, although they were slow-burning, still wary. "Then why does a child's mind go empty?"

"Greed of government may consume all."

There was a bit of silence, and then she sighed. Unashamedly, she leaned on the table, hands tucked into her elbows; Ganondorf tried to ignore her breasts nearly hanging out. "Curse Din," she grumpily swore. Her face was not happy, yet there was a grudging respect growing. "You could be doing so many more things tonight, am I right? Correcting papers, beating my kid Colin senseless..."

Ganondorf felt a prickle of anxiety. "Colin is your...?"

"Goddesses, no." Her meaty hand flapped, shooing him towards a large red curtain. The closer they got, the louder the whispering became. "But he's Rusl's, so I'd be careful." Without a trace of decency, the woman whipped the scarlet curtain back.

The room hidden behind the drapes was little more than a niche to hide in. The stone floor was cold, and the torches on the walls cast a warm glow. The table was somewhat round, pitted with knife stabs and fist marks. Intials were carved into it. There were four people situated in and around the chairs: two older men, a young scholar, and Duke Mikau.

Behind him, Telma closed the red curtains, cinching the fabric with a quick twist of her fingers. "The coast is clear," she said loudly, "This is Shad, Rusl, Auru, and Duke Mikau." Her fingers pointed to them, right to left around the table.

Ganondorf straightened as the people of his city hesitated. He didn't understand why he had received the note, when clearly, these people weren't ready for him to be here. But the instructions had been specific. He couldn't leave now.

And Rusl -Colin's father- was waiting, eyes dark. His narrow face, high cheekbones and darkening hair suddenly appeared as Colin before Ganondorf. Was the man going to talk to him after?

The awkward moment of silence passed when the only Zoran walked to his side. Duke Mikau's nearly white hand encircled his firmly. His black eyes were hopeful as he said, "We are glad you came, High Prince. There are some issues that our small group has been having troubles with –such as the war- and we hope that on the next Council Meeting, you may be able to help." He hesitated, before saying calmly, "My page has expressed his trust in your page, and I hope that in the future, our meetings will not have to be in the back room of a bar."

They were strange, emotional words from such a stoic man. It nearly broke Ganondorf's concentration. He nodded to the others, who had relaxed. Slightly.

"I thank you for allowing me to be here."

Movement immediately sprang from a slim man with tawny hair: Shad. With a bow of his head, he motioned to a map of the continents settled on the wooden table. Colors were traced around in old strike patterns and warfronts. "What we think we know," the scholar said, "Is that the war is being staged more or less by Dark, am I right? That means that his goal is either to gain lands from Twilight, create chaos or destroy his clan, from the north."

"Except," Telma piped, picking at her nails idly, "-the High Prince _destroyed_ that clan in an undercover strike last fall, if I'm correct." Her eyes peered through her lashes.

Ganondorf nodded shortly. "I don't understand what that means to me. Cero creates tension wherever he goes."

"Exactly! He's always moving around," Shad sprang into action with a triumphant smile over his features. "-And because he actually gets things done like conquering, tax collecting…the King trusts him. The King wants to expand, judging from past years. First it was the borders along Termina, then the shores of the south. How long has Twilight been fighting raids when they have been our fault?" His hands trailed along the dark lines on the wrinkled parchment, and his forefinger halted over the Castle of Twilight. "This has been repeated over and over in history, first starting with the-"

"No, no, no, no history lessons now," Telma snorted, cuffing the man's ear firmly. Her lips jutted out as the others slightly, "Discuss the relevant terms to our guest, not the whole history of every instance that's happened."

Shad's thoughtful face twisted into a wistful expression after a pause of utter silence. He seemed to be gathering his mind. "All right. This new council meeting –if our intel is correct- is going to decide the fate of the war. This will be the one to decide if the military is going to march. I'm sure there are going to be enormous facts about the terrorism and attacks on Hyrule, more of a slanderous pep talk than anything. It will breed the fires of war."

"Yes," Ganondorf nodded, mind reeling. He didn't realize that his people had thought like that about the King, and Cero. Did they trust Cero more because he was willing to attack for more grain, produce, and land? "And you wish for me to speak out at this meeting?"

A few glances of hope were exchanged. The tall Zora in the background bowed, saying shortly, "Our faction cannot last against the majority who follow Cero." His black eyes were slightly glazed over. "You should take control and speak out, no matter who you may ostricize."

"Surely you have records of some of the illegal deals between Cero and the King?" a country man spoke –Rusl—"There must be something to take the public's opinion of Cero down. The city folk only respect him because he's promised them to do whatever it takes to get them out of the recession. The fact of the matter is he hasn't. _You've_ been the one working behind the scenes to restart the rupee system and come back to democracy –especially with your proposal for the Clean Water and Sewage Act here in the capital and the water treatments for the lower cities. What about your start on the roads this summer? No one seems to care about improving the home country when we can just take it from somewhere else."

And like that, Ganondorf felt his control begin to wane. His face didn't budge from the praise, but for once, somebody had seen the laws he had been trying to pass. They had been hard, aching defeats. What _could_ he do if he had the Council's approval? Ideas began winding through his head as his hands curled together.

He could decrease the mortality rate.

He could provide more religious churches across the country.

He could get the economy focused on inner growth, not commercial development.

He could make a better Hyrule.

There had been silence as he waited and mulled over this new proposition. If only he had done this years ago! Suddenly his folly seemed like a huge gaping hole in all his strategies and honors as the High Prince. People had looked up to him as he passed by on his warhorse after a battle, not seeing him but seeing the entire monarch. With his quiet stance, they didn't know anything about him, only that he was going to be the new King, no less, no more. Not anymore. He had to move. The only fear Ganondorf had was that it was too late. His voice would be an odd occurance in an otherwise feverish meet.

"If I cannot sway the judgement…do you have a plan?" he asked sharply.

Four pairs of hesitant eyes met his. The question hung in the slightly smoky air, seeping into the wooden walls. With the curtain behind him, Ganondorf frowned. This could not do. There had to be some way of stopping the war without the Council…

Suddenly Duke Mikau said, "Is it true that you have bought Link as a slave?" When Ganondorf stiffened, the Zoran held up his hand. "Whatever you have done in the past, it may be time to rectify means _now_. Although his family may be under guard, he is not. Could an escape be staged, to allow him to ride to Twilight as a Protector of the Pass and tell Queen Midna of the war?"

"How did you know about his brethren?" Ganondorf asked sharply, "That access is only known to certain individuals."

Mikau's lip twisted into tight lines. "I have my ways."

When it was sure that there would be no more said on the _how?_ of the question, Ganondorf nodded shortly. "I could probably manage to release Link. His only problem would be he absolutely will not leave his wife. He has all but given up every freedom so she may be taken out of the prison."

"Could we manage to release the others? Do they get a break for exercise, or a physical exam? Even a torture session?" Shad grimaced, "Those people need only a minute amount of leverage to start a rebellion."

Sounds of agreement and nods came from each member, including Ganondorf. "I can apply for an interrogation session. However, with ten guards assigned to each member if they are taken out of the cell, it would be nearly impossible to allow everyone escape." His mind whirled. Going against protocol now? Could he be considered a rebel?

Duke Mikau glanced at the clock on the wall, pursing his lips together.. "I believe that this can be ascertained at a different meeting gentlemen. I need to return to my apartments without alerting suspicion and the guard will be out in fifteen minutes." He bowed to Ganondorf, "High Prince, I cannot express my gratitude that you have chosen to speak at the council meet. I will help in any way I can. Excuse me."

The lengthy fingers shook hands with the men, nodding as the whole table stood in farewell. Ganondorf nodded cordially to the others, and replacing his hood. He turned to leave, but before he could take a few steps outside of the curtain, a voice came from his elbow.

"I wish to speak with you," the man with a high forehead said. Rusl. His eyes were deep, dark in the shadows. Motioning the royal over to the corner, he glanced toward the others hotly debating before nodding. Ganondorf followed as quickly as a cat; there was _something_ about Colin's father that made him want to check upon Colin as soon as he went back to the Palace.

The man crossed his arms. "How is my boy doing?"

Keeping his tone favorable, Ganondorf commented, "Colin has proven to be very skilled at the axes and sword, as well as fighting with his fists. His grades are exceptional. He has found a horse that he can train in relative peace, and he is-"

"I meant: how is my son feeling? Have you paid any attention to him at all?" Irritation was growing in the man, followed quickly by anger. His fists were clenching into two tight rocks that could inflict damage. "Have you asked him how he feels about being separated? Or how this war will affect him personally? Have you given him any motivation, any help, any support-!"

Ganondorf frowned, trying to not let the man's voice –and logic- get under his skin. "I chose him because he seemed well rounded and mature for his age. I was raised no differently."

A hand jerked out, grabbing the Prince's arm in a grip of iron. The man's face was twisted in anger. There was pure fury in Rusl's country voice; to Ganondorf's surprise, the accent from Ordon burst into colorful life, with the high drawls.

"You do _not_ know my son! He was raised far differently than you. What did you think would happen? My son was ripped from our home with the promise of battle, and you have not delivered – you have broken a promise to a young boy." The stone face hardened. "He needs trust. He needs voiced concern, not gifts and trials! He needs to be understood."

The outburst reminded Ganondorf of Colin. Had he remained in Ordon, this is surely what he would have become. And to the High Prince's surprise, he felt a row of shame.

"Sir," he said stiffly, glowering down at the unafraid man, "I believe I have been held too long here. I came to offer my support to Duke Mikau, not to be ridiculed." His arms crossed over his broad chest. "If you will know, Colin is the first page I have agreed to take. I have been pressured for years, and he was the only one who seemed to be compassionate and truly talented. I am not very old. I am still learning as well."

With a regal sweep of his robe over his arm, the monarch left the homely bar.

His secret was finally out.

And he needed to begin preparations.

_0_

_0_


	19. Consequences of Silence

_**A/N: I was shocked that within an hour of posting my last chapter, I had a few reviews already. Thanks for the support guys!**_

_**As for Ganondorf's secret, it's up to you to decide at this moment. Could it be he had a revelation of what he really wanted to become? Could it be that he admitted he was young and inexperienced? Maybe both? **_

_**I want to thank all of you who review! Please, if you see anything off, TELL ME! I need to improve. Reviewers: la generala, TheFinalCountdown, Vopi, Beforethedawnbreaks, Morbidly Bored, and Eclipse Storywriter.**_

_**

* * *

**_

_**XXX**_

_The Consequences of Silence_

_**XXX**_

Colin walked beside Ganondorf.

Despite his heart trying to break free of his chest, the boy found that he was so excited and so nervous and so worried that his breath was having trouble moving into his chest. He was almost paralyzed as the back passage to the High Prince's podium closed over his head.

The gray stone was cold, layered in bricks that were a foot by a half foot. Definitely made to be too strong to break. Guards were posted every ten feet; the quiet men bowed, hands clasped on metal spears etched with the High Prince's crest.

The boy had never even seen the Council Meet. He had heard great tales of the huge interior, made of stone quarried from the mountains, decorated with red and black silk banners depicting the mottos of the Royalty, the finely wrought lampposts with candles flickering, and the hundreds of representatives that could fit into the registered desks and chairs of mahogany wood.

He shakily followed Ganondorf up the stairs into the High Prince's box. It was separated from the King's Box, but it was higher than any of the others by nearly twenty feet. To some degree, the council members should have been looking up to Ganondorf, instead of ignoring him.

How? Could they not see him?

The door opened, revealing a small sitting area including three wooden chairs and a long table filled with papers and documents, with a stonebacked chair settled at the very front by the railing. A black curtain was hung over the balcony in a delicate drape while the red carpet glared up at Colin.

"Colin."

The boy glanced up to his master, bowing slightly. He didn't speak a word. The man's olive-hued face seemed slightly white, and his eyes were troubled. It took a moment for Colin to realize that Ganondorf was nervous.

"I want you to listen as closely as you can. This is a war meeting. Have my documents ready for me to present to the body. If a mention of the Guardians of the Pass campaign, I want to speak first. Keep an eye on Cero if he manages to get a word in with his cohorts." His broad finger pointed to the farthest right section. "They sit there. You should know the members of the Dark Union. Lord Dethl, Knight Bellumbeck…"

Colin nodded quickly continuing, "Lady Veran, Lady Majora, Cero, General Onox. I understand."

An unreadable expression flickered in Ganondorf's golden eyes before he turned away, settling himself into the stone chair.

Falling into a chair seemed like a good idea. The boy sat like a sack of potatos in the nearest hard-backed chair, still not believing he was actually here. It had only been this morning he had been aware of Ganondorf was allowing him to come after Colin petitioned him in his office.

_There was a knock on the door. Colin frowned, pulling on a loose cotton shirt over his freshly scrubbed arms and body. He pulled his rattail out of the way and wandered to the door._

_Ganondorf was standing there as he opened it. _

_At first, Colin didn't know what to say. 'Why are you here?' seemed too obvious a question._

_The High Prince's chin was high, and he was wearing his silver polished court armor and the deep red council uniform with pure gold stitching. The crest was shining on the cape layered over the breastplate._

_In his hand was an identical, slightly smaller tunic._

That was it. Colin was in a _war meeting_ and he was seated in the _High Prince's_ box. He hesitantly shifted positions on the chair, elbows leaning on his knees in relief. There were no guards settled in the box this time.

Shifting, Ganondorf's massive frame seemed to take up the entire box with his worry; there were lines of worry etched around his eyes. Black marks showed sleepless nights. _This had better be resolved today_, Colin thought,_ or he'll get no peace_.

Time was rushing by: the seats were filled in droves, the role taken by the clerks, Ganondorf's hail, the first topic of business: accepting the minutes of the last session, and finally-

Snapping out of his lack of attention, Colin began listening as Igos du Ikana shouted, banging the metal gavel on the table. It was a sharp ringing noise. It must have worked; there were subtle shifts in the crowd, showing blinking eyes and stiffening backs.

"This emergency meeting was called by a hundred and twenty of the members of the court for the duration necessary to decide and motion a war agreement for the Twilight Kingdom. We shall start by opening the floor to any and all arguments, following our laws of regular session.

"The agreement has stated that: 'for the broken laws and treaties the Kingdom of Twilight has pushed into the honest state of Hyrule, relation and justice must be upheld. Funded by citizen tax increases in all provinces and executed by the Hylian Guard, this war would begin immediately.'

"Debate on this subject only has been authorized. Thus, in accordance to the Laws of the Court, the debate is now current."

And the gavel bashed down again.

Surprised, many hands jerked into the air, many calling for attention like animals. The boy noticed Dark's calm and still, a beacon above the heads of all those gathered. It had to start somewhere though. "The Chair recognizes the Senior Advisor for Administration in Lake Hyrule, Maurice Blackeye."

A man with dark brown hair, an oval face, and chubby hands stood in his chair. Fiercely, he stated, "Another tax increase for the war is the last thing that we need." He sopped at his forehead, and like an elephant, his chest heaved, "The people surrounding the lake have their own worries about crops and farmlands without worrying about the city. My constiuents may hold a third of the money of this country, but we also are taxed nearly fifteen percent more and have nearly sixty miles of territory crossing borders with Twilight."

His mustache curled. "How can we survive? Taxes should not fund this war!"

There was a stir of commotion, and suddenly another man had stood- tall and fairskinned- drawing attention from every single eye in the chamber. He was Zoran, from his dark black eyes. "Debation?" he asked emotionlessly.

"The Chair recognizes Ambassador Sigurd from Zora's Domain."

"I would like to award my fellow member," he said, nodding to Maurice, "on his points. Instead of declaring that no taxes should fund this, I would go further to amend this statement by saying that this proposal be rejected by the members of this court. What good is it for us to fght a war when delegation can be used to cease fire and save our rupees?"

"Objection!"

Igos du Ikana frowned, remarking, "Denied." The scribes shuffled papes around, ignoring the single woman standing near the back. The hairs on Colin's neck went up.

Lady Majora.

Her fiery red hair curled around a narrow chin and large, furious eyes. Dressed in a corset of purple, azul, emerald, and cinnamon, she looked straight out of a carnival. It scared Colin.

Suddenly, Sigurd seemed to refuse his previous urge to sit down. Instead of nodding peacefully, the man snapped, "I would give my time to Duke Mikau, also of Zora's Domain." He sat on the wooden bench and gave the woman to his far left a vicious glare.

Mikau, dressed in his navy blue and trimmed with black threads, bowed and stood from his position on the third bench. He spread his thin hands, saying, "I have no weapon, no words with which to arm myself. All I can say to this body is that perhaps the situation is more dire than the nation believes. Cannot we make mistakes? Are we not human?"

_Eloquent. Reassured. What an incredible man_, Colin thought, watching the way the Zoran lifted his hands, establishing another point to the body. While well spoken, it wasn't changing that many opinions: there were sharp frowns from the last row and whispered disagreements.

There was a pause, and Mikau sat, clearly letting his words reverberate.

"The Chair recognizes the Dark Knight, Cero."

Cero. He was like a snake whispering in the bird's ear.

In his black finery, he called to the people, "I would like to focus on what the war will have cost us if we do not fight it."

And just like that, he had control of the emotions of the merchants, the women, the knights, the royalty...

"Tyranny will continue in the world," the man said sharply, "While I don't agree with never fighting this war, I do not believe it should be taxed so throughly on the people. Why not allow funds for useless programs be funnelled into this? There are countless of entities –such as the Deku Scout Programs in schools, the Open-Air act, the Heir to the Monarchy Funds– to help us."

_Heir to the Monarchy Funds?_ Colin raised his eyebrows, unsurprised when Ganondorf shifted in his stone chair, stating softly, "That is my inheritance. He is trying to use it, which he can't under law." The armor glinted in the light.

"Ah," Colin hummed.

"This war would increase the opportunities for numerous jobs, a higher rate of intranational trade, less internal social stigmas, and a stronger mental attitude toward our country. This would be beneficial for everyone to see, to know! We could raise the prosperity of the other nations around us, to show stronger support for us!"

A mild burst of clapping came from the liberal side of the room. Lady Majora seemed to be sated somewhat, but Duke Mikau was shaking his head, incredulous.

Dark didn't stop. He stated, "I want to immediately fund the military and attack Twilight. I know how it must sound: a general's need for power." He glowered up at Ganondorf, "I can't imagine listening to someone like me. But I've seen the need in the communities, the hovels, the fields and the forests. What if someone takes that from us? The best defense is offense. We need to attack and stop their idle threats from growing. They need to understand us!

"Besides, our forests are becoming depleted. Our streams are running dry. Could we not force a trade between our countries, strengthening our ties? The disbanded marriage between the Queen and our Majesty was forcibly rejected by Twilight. We need a better, unifying presence in Twilight, and that is our own King! He needs to control!"

Now others were clapping, even from the opposing side. In fact, the Goron behind Duke Mikau rose to his enormous height, nodding and clapping as if he were accepting an award for fervent supporter. A handful of Hylians laughed along, triumphantly raising the level of stupidity in the room.

Cero's smug face was even; he had won this round with a handful of empty promises and words of the devil.

Colin's nerves went off. Action.

His eyes flickered to Ganondorf; the High Prince must have gotten his brain waves, because like a giant he blotted out the candles, creating the shadow of the monarchy. He simply raised his hand.

Down below, there was a skittish lessening of the clapping. At the attention to the Prince's Box, Igos du Ikana stiffened slightly, but instantly proclaimed, "The Chair recognizes the Heir to the Throne, High Prince of Hyrule Ganondorf."

This was it. If Ganondorf's resistance had come too late in this season, all would be lost.

Colin peered into the crowd. From below, the faces gazed up towards him, nervous and surprised. Murmurs were quieting down; Duke Mikau's eyes shone somewhat apprehensively from the left wing box. Ganondorf didn't seem to mind. His legs were sturdy beneath him when he rose to his full height; the formal armor situated on his chest was a regal, demanding presence.

And he began to speak.

"A war over resources is admirable," he said, nodding to the crowds, "Our borders with Twilight have always been attacked, families destroyed, minerals mined without our permission. However, I wish to bring certain investigations to the main body."

He quietly shuffled the papers in his hand, subtly shifting the tone from impressed to slightly disturbed. "On the morning of the twenty fourth day of the tenth month in the sixth year of the King Ganon's reign, a meeting was held between Twilight and Hyrule. A peace accord was signed. Four days later, a caravan from the south was attacked. Hyrule took the defense and immediately killed a family of Twili living four miles from the site. According to official military documents, a mass grave was dug for three men, a woman, and six children-"

"Yield your time." Cero's voice danced out of the crowd. His eyes were dark and seething with madness.

Ganondorf simply glanced toward Igos du Ikana. The thin-lips thinned even more as the man nodded, fingers tapping out a slight rythym. "The High Prince Ganondorf still controls the floor." His eyes flashed toward Cero's disbelieving face, "An infraction will be given to any who interrupts the speaker without probable cause."

Here it was. Colin blinked rapidly, silently wishing that this was not his first session, that his notes would help Ganondorf in the future._ Too late_, his mind screamed as Ganondorf began speaking again.

"As I was saying, a mass grave was dug for three men, a woman, and six children by the 7th Crimson Squad led by the Dark Knight Cero. The digging of a mass grave directly violates the fourth amendment of the Treatment of Bodies of Foreigners in War Law, Article 36-C. Construction lasted four minutes without a proper sayings. This violates the sixth amendment to the Death Law by not allowing a religious authority of the deceased to bless the grave. In addition to this, a formal compliant was made by the Twilight Queen about the loss of this caravan for trade goods. In due response, she withheld the goods and trades on order of the defaulted peace accord, which was signed in this room."

"In another fact, Emissary Zant arrived to provide a compliant about Article 36 in the spring. His report held that the bodies of Honey and Darling were left while the leading officer had never been found of a military unit. A pardon was given at the next council meet due to sufficient documentation. The soldiers of Twilight knew the laws better than our own soldiers."

Colin's mouth gaped at the sheer facts, but Ganondorf wasn't done. "This is only one example of the broken laws that Hyrule has covered up. Another can be traced to the attacks on the Terminian border that dealt with six 'brigands'. These were not robbers out for petty cash, but simply a hunting party of two adults and two adolescents as well as two boys used for flushing out game. The only weapons they carried were bows and arrows, no bombs which are illegal for Terminians to possess on Hylian grounds. They broke no rules, and were actually crossing the border when a warden alerted an off-duty patrol unit under the leadership of General Onox."

The general's face down below reminded Colin of a skewered pig. His face was beet red from holding in anger, while his entire body had stiffened. Those around him, including Lady Veran and Lady Majora, sneered at the implications. Lord Dethl leaned from behind the man and began speaking rapidly. The entire population shifted.

Suddenly, the older merchant Alonzo called to the Chair, "Point of question?"

Igos du Ikana nodded, formally stating, "Point of question given to Mr. Alonzo from the Administrative Branch of Marketing in Castletown."

The man clumsily managed to get to his feet, his large stomach showing his well established stomach. Behind a droopy mustache, he asked, "Are these documentations ready for presentation? I would like to see a copy of each of these reports as well as any of Lord Cero's." With a troubled frown, he sat down. Mutoh, the Royal Architect, leaned into him, mustache quivering as his mouth flapped and his fists clenched.

Ganondorf nodded, and began explaining that a copy had been made three nights in the past, and that his page had delivered them to Igos du Ikana. Colin's heart sped up.

On the Chair's Podium, the clear-headed du Ikana nodded sharply, pressed jacket too neat and strict for his discomfort. "I received them in good documentation. They will be delivered momentarily." He turned away from the amplifier, snapping his fingers to the clerks. Ten of them dressed in bright red suits immediately gathered information in their arms and headed down the aisles, quickly dispensing the reports.

The Chair tapped his gavel twice, continuing, "The High Prince Ganondorf still has the floor."

Muttering, nothing substantial, waved around the council room, along with the shuffling of the copied statements and papers. A hundred anxious faces turned to stare at Ganondorf.

He took a deep breath, and said in his gravelly voice, "These have all been documented and placed into the archives. Most, under careful scrunity, can be seen as misunderstandings or deliberate attacks on the Kingdom of Twilight. Thousands of thousands of citizens' rupees have been forged into the military on pointless-" His voice shook angrily for a moment as offended members of the council stood with shouts "-endeavors that have our taxes raised by 13% since the last year and continuing to increase. The treasury is running low, and unless Generals, Knights, and myself want to fund this war to _increase lands_ there is little to be done. I am very against this proclaimation."

Voices- from Knights to merchants- were screaming and shouting, demanding attention through high-held fists and swinging capes. Groups of men were close to brawling like dogs amongst themselves; the women were snarling at each other, desperately taking sides. The brightly colored tunics of reds, oranges, greens, and blues were a rainbow along the high benches, spotted with white and black throughout the throng of movement. Igos du Ikana was smashing his gavel into near splinters.

Colin stared at the mass. It had exploded with Ganondorf's final admittance. Hope began to swirl in his heart, and the boy sat straighter, thinking, _Can this be it? Can the war be prevented?_

"MY PEOPLE!"

The voice cut through the chaos like a whip. Gaping, the men and women of the council turned to see Dark, situated by the Chair, black eyes dark as coals staring up at Ganondorf.

"These facts have all been stated-" he pitched his sultry voice, calming down the crowd "-and put onto record. There have been incidents all along the border, but it has never been with the intent of war. Twilight has always attacked first; the Ambassador Zant came to apologize earlier in the year because of this! That was the whole reason!"

Instead of continuing, he whipped to Igos du Ikana, asking clearly, "I wish to discuss the course and nature of the statements the High Prince has brought upon this council." His voice was dredged up from his chest, growling like a beast. Black suit impeccable, he turned.

The Chair simply stated, sneer deepening, "We recognize the Dark Knight Cero." His hands clenched at the amplifier. Igos du Ikana- with his shockingly gray hair, narrow face, sharp red cape embedded with silver buttons- did not look like he enjoyed listening to the raving lunatic.

"Why…?" Colin whispered, but a sharp wave from Ganondorf cut him off.

Back upon the floor, Dark's fist came up, mockingly saluting Ganondorf. The crowd remained strangely silent as Dark shouted, "I've been situated under the High Prince's command for years. True, he may be related through bastard blood to the Sovereign King, but his attitude has long been lax and unneeded…"

It was utterly quiet in the box. Ganondorf's chin lifted slightly, square jaw pronounced. His entire being stiffened. He was clearly offended and yet he did nothing; he followed protocol, unlike Dark who had taken the Chair by force.

"- from missions, he first writes paperwork! Paperwork! He never attends to the wounded, the sick, the dying, the deceased families! I have! I have been there for years-"

Hissing at his master, Colin snapped, "He's feeding them lies and they're believing it!"

Ganondorf didn't tear his eyes awake from the dark clad man still preaching, only nodded once. The lines deepened on his face. His hair seemed to be gaining white streaks throughout his temples. The boy realized he'd never seen his master so upset in his life.

"And what-" Cero shouted, "-has our High Prince Ganondorf done for us, as a people?" His long finger was pointing toward the box.

"He has played us as fools, pulling strings behind our backs! While the people starve, he dines on roast pork and fresh fruit! Men have died under his watch, and he brushes the families aside, without any consulting or explanation!"

Murmurs shot through the crowd like lightning. A bash of the gavel on wood was followed by, "ORDER, MEMBERS OF THE COUNCIL. STAND DOWN, DARK KNIGHT CERO!"

Colin hastily glanced to see Igos du Ikana furiously begin to cite regulations against the public opinion, treason to the monarchy, and demand immediate withdrawal from the floor due to personal reasons. Under black eyes, his mouth was curled into a snarl as he explained, "There is no personal quarrel here! This is a governing body using governing practices. We are still debating on the report from the High Prince about these illegal affairs in the military."

Quietly, Ganondorf raised his head. He gave Colin a nod of encouragement, red hair slick against his olive skin. The man on the governing floor straightened imperceptibly in the high-raised wooden chair before citing, "The floor is given back to High Prince Ganondorf."

About half of the floor shifted. Silks in shining tunics and a variety cotton scratched against each other as everyone –from Mutoh, to the local doctor, to Duke Mikau, to Lord Bellenbuck, to Cero, to the couriers, to the trumpeter, to the scribes- hesitated, faces turned toward their noble. _They wanted answers_, Colin realized.

The deepest, most sincere voice started, "This proclamation of war is too great for us. As a people, we are dedicated. We never give in." Leaning out over the stone wall, Ganondorf motioned to the entire senate, broad hands open in safety.

"I know the consequences of my silence," he said slowly, eyes lifted to meet the eyes of his kinsmen, "I know how I have estranged you as a people and brought shame to the role in which I play heir to the monarchy. I want to correct that."

His fists suddenly steeled fast. "At the beginning of this year, an expedition was sent to the north on the mission to bring any caravans or goods back from Twilight before the winter completely froze the roads-" Colin listened in horror as the Prince raised his chin. He was going to tell the secret! "-Myself, Lord Bellenbuck, General Onox, and Lord Cero were sent to monitor this trip, when in fact we were sent to appro-"

"STOP."

Immediate silence fell. Confused, Colin glanced toward his his utter horror Ganondorf's face had turned ashen and his hands were shaking as he leaned on the railing. His head swung to the right. "What's going-" Colin tried to speak; Ganondorf waved a hand. His eyes closed in defeat.

He whispered, "We've failed, Colin."

At the southern two-story door, the scarlet-robed boy herald fumbled and brought his shining horn to his lips, and the King's Call was trumpeted for all to hear. Instantly, the boy knew what had happened.

The King was in his box.

Colin was dumbfounded as he stood with the entire body of the council, bowing in the direction of the King's box, lit with a pomp and ceremony it hadn't for the entire session.

This hadn't happened in four years. The King had never come to a council meeting, only stayed in the castle, an elusive, terrifying figure. Even the people out in the desks and chairs had faces that resembled dolls. Brows were lifted, fans were stilled in women's fingers, capes were tucked in properly, and feet were brought immediately to attention. It was like watching a row of tin soldiers being erected methodically. Not one person moved an inch.

Until the trumpeter was done. Igos du Ikana's hand fell to his knee in a sign of respect as he called, "We welcome and recognize the Lord Sovereign, the King of Hyrule and all Its Lands, the God of War, His Majesty Ganon IV, descendant of the vanquisher of evil Ganondorf, the rightful Hylian and true King!"

Applause was immediate from hundreds of white, red, tanned, and brown hands. Eyes strained, Colin saw the black silks being cleared from the King's Box by two mousy-haired boys, dressed in solid red. Twins, their thin arms shook as the last gauzy fabric was untacked, revealing the man behind.

He had a square, fat face with beady black eyes over a broad nose, surrounded by meticulously groomed scarlet hair. Black tunic of the finest silk, spotless armor, and a large golden crown shone in the many lights decorating the box. The King of Hyrule was a short, brawny man that Colin could only describe as ruthless.

"My lord!" Cero suddenly crowed, establishing himself upon the dias in front of the King's box. Dressed to kill, with his ebony hair curling about his crown, the man seemed unstoppable with the gleam in his eye. "You honor us with your marvelous presence, Majesty, and your words! The people of Hyrule will know your words as the truth! As justice!"

Shocked, Colin coughed. Really? He was trying to impress the King by lavish praise? That never worked with-

"The Dark Knight Cero," the deep voice came, booming off the walls like thunder, "You have done well to lead this debate in matters of intercontinental relations. Your leadership is vital to this council."

Puffing his chest out like a giant ox taking in a gulp of breath, the King boomed, "I personally received a document of war this morning from the fastest courier. The barbarian Queen Midna thinks she can affect our peaceful lifestyles with threats and destroying our lands."

Applause had begun to drift in after the King's public show, but now it was thundering. The very walls were reverberating with a hundred calls for war, with hands clapping. Even shoes from the women tapped. All of Ganondorf's quick points washed away in the tide of enthusiasm.

This could not do. Where was the democracy? Didn't those stupid people remember that there were documents clearly explaining it wasn't Twilight's fault, but Hylian err? They had to be reminded. Colin hastily moved to his master's side, whispering, "State the rules of the court. Du Ikana might come to reason." His sharp eyes met the golden, frustrated ones of Ganondorf's, and deep within, he saw the flicker of determination. There was a slight nod, and the boy was moved back to his seat in the shadows.

Polite clapping. It was grating on Colin's nerves.

Imitating his father, Ganondorf raised his voice, and shouted down to the pedestal, "Igos du Ikana, I request that my arguments be continued with the acceptance of the Majesty and King Ganon."

The clapping immediately halted, fading into unsure whispers. Even the thin man on the stand looked unreadable. He obviously was bound to his monarch, because he did not move.

Golden eyes met through the air. Tension grew. Then, like a child, Ganon's lip ripped into a frown.

"You are an abomination."

Ganondorf's jaw tightened, but his backbone didn't even flinch.

"All you have done for this council is waste time, energy, and rupees. A war will bring us out of our economic downfall into an age of prosperity!" Ganon's voice was too loud and overwhelming.

There was not one squeak from Igos du Ikana seated at the hard bench; Colin felt like shouting at him to recall rules and regulations in a proper documenting fashion, not allow a shameful act of dysfunction to occur. But his heart was in his throat listening to the _power_ of the voice.

"Hyrule is a land of opportunity! Twilight has destroyed values and morale! How can you-" his finger pointed sharply at the High Prince "-say this is bad for us, as a people?" Eyes burned.

Colin could not believe the blasphemy coming out of the monarch's mouth! How could anyone belief this-?

"To help fund this operation, I strip you of your rights-" King Ganon roared, "High Prince no more, you have seven hours to remove your office-"

"_What_?" Colin hissed, standing without meaning to.

"-and furthermore, the Dark Knight Cero, who has given his time and soul into these missions, will become the Commander of all the Armies of Hyrule-"

Voracious applause! Colin saw Ganondorf's shoulders shake – in agony or utter hopelessness he didn't know. Wordlessly, he glared down into the ground; his veins nearly popped out of his neck in bulges when he saw the glowing, utterly intoxicated appearance on Cero's face.

"- thereby establishing control over all properties seized-"

Colin felt rage.

_This cannot be happening._

"-and to be resettled within twenty four hours, including treaties, priviledges, and properties received or acquired. Let it be done!"

_All properties received?_ A streak of fear shot through Colin, and glancing the scrap of note paper, his thin calligraphy spilled forth, ignoring the utter silence, racing against any hope of any time. _All properties received_...

Link.

No! No! No!

"In addition to this decree, I wish to lower the taxes on government spending by two percent! We will be not be attacking Twilight in a hopeless war, we will be defending our rights as a nation! We will once again find justice and peace in our borders, from within our people and without the borders! We will conquer the Twilight Kingdom! We will have freedom!"

A man shouted, "All hail the Great Lord of Everything, our Lord Ganon!"- Colin's eyes centered on Cero- "Your words are the truth, your actions sound! Even through delinquent troubled youths eating the bread from your own table, you rise above all expectations to do the pure movement!"

What was he doing? There was a general jibe to Ganondorf there. Was he…turning public opinion?

Several screams of excitement reverberated the walls. The King quietly nodded, eyes gleaming. Colin could only stare, body feeling numb; he moved his eyes wildly around to focus on the people, to see how they were taking it.

It seemed to Colin like everything was going mad. Laughter and riots of arms came from the floor, and 'freedom' was being shouted into the air. These people had been on the verge of declaring the war unethical! They had asked for documentation which was still in their hands; how was Ganondorf to even speak with this catastrophy of a democracy going on?

And what if Cero had somehow managed to manipulate the King before the council meet? What if he had bribed and prodded, shown himself more ruthless, been more aggravating, had a heart of stone, or maybe just bluntly said he wanted the throne? Would the King actually believe it? Nothing was past him at this point!

"Colin."

He drew his treasonous thoughts away and listened to his master. Softly, Colin asked, "Sir?"

Like bull readying itself for the charge, Ganondorf whirled, still resolutely tall with his hand curled around the pommell of his sword. His mouth was set sharp.

"We're leaving."

There was no question; the boy became a shadow again, sidling next to Ganondorf as he left the area. The soldiers didn't snap to attention as the two of them breezed past. Thousands of thoughts hit Colin's head. First of all…

Brows furrowed, Colin whispered, "Link's freedom is forfeit." He took one step closer to the High Prince, saying, "We need-"

"I know, Colin," Ganondorf snapped back. "It needs to happen within six hours. Cero will move. I need my study, with the notes. I can…I can finish my will and leave a legacy of a coward behind." His eyes glowered, even though his voice was gentle. "And you need to pack."

Prickles of uncertainty fled up Colin's neck. "For how long?"

"As long as it takes to get Link to the Pass."

_0_

_0_


End file.
